The Wait

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He sits down and carefully places the cold glass on the table. He squirms on the wooden chair, trying to get comfortable as he slowly looks around, taking in the clientele as some vaguely hip electronica burbles from the speaker above his head. He wonders if he’s chosen the best seat, the window offers a view of the street and the distractions outside.

He takes a sip of beer, he’s on his second already, pulls his phone from his pocket and completes the modern ritual of those who live in this always-on connected world. He disconnects from everyone around him as he checks messages, emails, delving into social media this and status updates that as he whiles away the time which is slowly, ohhhh so slowly, creeping forward.

Bored, listless, he puts the phone down and once again surveys the room. Nothing has changed since he entered.

The music changes and his gaze shifts to the window and the view beyond. He watches a couple, deep in frantic conversation, slowly walking past, a teenager peeks out from beneath her hood as she strides forward, determination on her face and lurid green headphones clamped to her ears, a woman at the end of her working day heads home to her children and inside the pub the man  wonders about the excitement that will bloom on their faces when she arrives at her destination and reveals the contents of that bulging Toys R Us bag.

The door to the bar is pushed open, a figure framed in the frosted glass for a moment. A man enters the bar and across the room a flicker of recognition becomes a smile as his friend rises to greet him once more.