Waiting

They click their tongues in the next room over.

Waiting.

A hushed voice.

Where is she?

I long for the scent of lilac, my favorite, to cover the stench of hatred.

The shadows are my friend.

Just wall, I think, between us.

The chair creaks as one of them sits.

Waiting.

A insistent whisper.

She’s got to be here.

A taste of fresh spring water, sunshine on my face, the embrace of my mother, anything.

Anything to give me strength.

I’m just hiding; waiting.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s