A long wait is like a
heavy weight.
It sits on your chest
and punctuates
your sighs.
Sometimes you
don't know if what
you're waiting for
will ever even
happen. Then
the weight is
round your neck
or tied to your
feet, and you've been
thrown off a bridge
and you're sinking,
slowly, into the
briny deep.
There's plenty more
fish in the sea, they say.
Forget about it, they say.
I'll wait until I drown,
I say.
I am going to write a story of some variety, long or short, fictitious or factual, every single day for a year. Wish me luck.
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