The Waiting

Ah, is it morning already? I need to stretch. Wow, that felt good.
Where are they? Are they over there? I found you. Good morning.
Oh, you’re leaving? So soon? I walk to the door with them. Goodbye.
I’ll be here when you get back. The door closes. A rush of air brushes past me. I run to the window to watch them leave.

Now, the waiting begins.

Time watches me, unblinking, slow and steady as the ticking of the clock on the wall. The tick, tick, like a never-ending heartbeat.
Wait—I heard something. A creak. A whisper. A wind. Is someone there?
No… just my mind playing tricks.

The sun creeps across the floor, dragging the hours behind it.
Time drifts by, like clouds overhead, unhurried and silent.
The space feels bigger now. Empty.

They are thinking of me. I know they are.

Wait—a noise! What was that? I freeze.
I did. I heard it again. I run to the window. Are they here?!?

They’re home! I rush to the door.
I know they’ll be excited to see me.
They always are. They love when I greet them. The door opens.
There they are. You missed me so much!

They stop. A moment just for me.
This is what it means to be “home.”