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Waiting In My Life

Decent Essays

I am waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, and yes still waiting. I don't know how old i am anymore. My life is a never ending cycle that hasn't stopped spinning into a never ending spiral of nothingness. And yet, I remain within it. While there is little to no future in my daily cycle I find comfort in knowing what to expect, but I expect something unexpected. The clock chimes 12 so I rise from my bench and move to the bar for my daily drink. The right door hinge squeaks as I walk in. I pause briefly then move on to my stool 3 down right in from of the Sasparilla Machine. There is no need for any conversation the tender knows my drink and has already been paid in full 34 years ago for this drink. Within 3 minutes the glass is dry and I return to my bench by the tracks to start phase 2 of my waiting. While I wait I ponder one of the deepest mysteries that occurred so far in my day, the door squeak. What does it mean? Nothing else has changed in this ghost town. Nobody new ever comes, but surely eventually someone new will come. Someone with innocence that be a light to the darkness hidden in this town. A train whistle echoes in the distance.
“Maybe today is the day…just maybe,” I mutter under my breath. The train slows to its shuffling stop and lets out a piercing whistle as if to announce to the world it is stopping. A man with a suitcase hopped off the train step glanced at me then turned waving furiously at the train. Never in the last 34 years has anyone that

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