Monday, May 7, 2012

The Waiting Room: Part II


The door creaks open, a flood of stark, painful light. A voice beckons her inside. Heart pounding, palms sweating, she arises and steps into the room. The door closes abruptly behind her and she wrestles her fearful heart into submission, awaiting her verdict.
“So, you want to go, you say?” he asks, his voice understanding.
“More than anything,” she confirms.
He lifts a file with her name stamped across, bright bold letters she cannot miss. He says nothing as he sifts through and she waits, knees trembling. The press of voices outside is gone but the ones in her head she cannot shake, whispering doubts and reminders of lost chances before. No reason to believe that anything has changed. A little time wasted dabbling in random crafts, biding time for this moment, won’t count for much, she thinks.
He hands her the file and says softly, “You are a seeker, aren’t you?”
She takes the file with shaking hands. “Am I going to go?” she whispers, throat papered with the culmination of a thousand sleepless nights.
He smiles at her, an ever-patient smile and then says the word for which she was been waiting for what seems like endless time, the word that her heart cannot bear to hear: “No.”

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