Waiting
2:46
She lay on her stomach, head turned to the side, mouse-brown hair splayed across her pillow and falling in her face as she stared at the digital clock; the three numbers that read 2:47. The back of her chest rose and fell as her lungs filled with air and her lips parted to blow it right back out; her hair flipped into the air with the breath, falling to settle on her face once more.
She rolled onto her back, pulling an elastic from her wrist as she sat up. She frowned in concentration and pulled her hair into a tight bunch, twisting the lime green elastic around three times to knot everything together in a messy bun. Dropping her hands to her sides, palms flat on the bed, she looked around her room, bringing her right hand to her mouth and holding her upper lip to her teeth. She absentmindedly bit the soft skin, looking around the room as if to find something to do.
With a start, she realized she was gnawing on her lip; it was starting to bleed. She dropped her hand to her side again, smiling slightly at the whumph it made on her comforter. She sighed, lifting herself off the bed. As she stepped to the floor, she winced; her foot had landed on the broken piece of a Tic-Tac container. She leaned against her bed, sliding to the floor to pull the orange piece of plastic from the soft flesh between her toes.
Another sigh escaped her lips, and her head fell backwards, thumping against the soft comforter covering the hard metal frame of her bed. She turned her head to the side to stare at her clock again. The green numbers swayed in front of her eyes, making them water. The time was 2:48.
She groaned, pulling herself off her dirty wood floor and turning to lean against her bed, the tops of her thighs and the bones in her slim hips pressing against her grey blanket. She looked out her window at the sun pushing its way through the trees and closed her eyes. The shadow of a sob escaped her lungs and slipped past her lips like a mocking laugh, and she felt her torso tumble forward onto her bed.
Strands of hair fell out of her bun and onto the bed, one side glowing gold in the sunlight, the other mouse-brown, as ever. She pressed her face into the sun-warmed blanket and inhaled, feeling the air press its way through the layers of fabric and into her lungs. She imagined how it would be, once he'd come and gone, once his smell was ingrained into her things. She imagined the way he might be, crookedly smiling while they lay on her bed and teased each other in the afternoon sun.
She pressed her eyes closed, shutting out the hopes with the light, and rolled her head to the side. She stared at the clock once more. 2:51.
She rolled onto her back, pulling an elastic from her wrist as she sat up. She frowned in concentration and pulled her hair into a tight bunch, twisting the lime green elastic around three times to knot everything together in a messy bun. Dropping her hands to her sides, palms flat on the bed, she looked around her room, bringing her right hand to her mouth and holding her upper lip to her teeth. She absentmindedly bit the soft skin, looking around the room as if to find something to do.
With a start, she realized she was gnawing on her lip; it was starting to bleed. She dropped her hand to her side again, smiling slightly at the whumph it made on her comforter. She sighed, lifting herself off the bed. As she stepped to the floor, she winced; her foot had landed on the broken piece of a Tic-Tac container. She leaned against her bed, sliding to the floor to pull the orange piece of plastic from the soft flesh between her toes.
Another sigh escaped her lips, and her head fell backwards, thumping against the soft comforter covering the hard metal frame of her bed. She turned her head to the side to stare at her clock again. The green numbers swayed in front of her eyes, making them water. The time was 2:48.
She groaned, pulling herself off her dirty wood floor and turning to lean against her bed, the tops of her thighs and the bones in her slim hips pressing against her grey blanket. She looked out her window at the sun pushing its way through the trees and closed her eyes. The shadow of a sob escaped her lungs and slipped past her lips like a mocking laugh, and she felt her torso tumble forward onto her bed.
Strands of hair fell out of her bun and onto the bed, one side glowing gold in the sunlight, the other mouse-brown, as ever. She pressed her face into the sun-warmed blanket and inhaled, feeling the air press its way through the layers of fabric and into her lungs. She imagined how it would be, once he'd come and gone, once his smell was ingrained into her things. She imagined the way he might be, crookedly smiling while they lay on her bed and teased each other in the afternoon sun.
She pressed her eyes closed, shutting out the hopes with the light, and rolled her head to the side. She stared at the clock once more. 2:51.