The Waiting Room – part two

fiction

The Waiting Room

Part Two

There were stools and chairs aligned across the room. The room was overcrowded with no more seats available, except for one.  David’s cellphone was still on the chair, but out of batteries.  An elderly man placed the phone under the chair and sat down.

A sweet smell of Brazil coffee aroma was coming out from the corner that passed through the mixture of heavy perfumes, deodorants and sweat stench and led straight to the young man that was sitting on one of the stools. His hair was carefully jelled, and he was wearing a business suit and small glasses that accentuated his facial features. He was texting with his best friend Simon and people could see all the texts from the side of their peripheral vision and some stared directly.

One lady with blonde curly hair, named Mary, was sitting right next to the young man and she had an optimal view of all of the texts on the young man’s phone.  Mary’s dramatic boredom clawed the curiosity of the texts and she quickly learned that the young man’s name was Glen.  It seemed Simon was arranging a get-together…

All of a sudden Glen’s face turned pale, his friend, Simon was texting that he was at the crying lake house and that he only had sardines and beer for dinner and his hand was burning in acid from the lake.”

Simon kept asking Glen what to do next to stop the acid from burning his hand.  Glen quickly texted back, “Where are you? What are you doing at that house near the lake again? Go wash your hands and go home. You are probably hallucinating because you didn’t eat a good dinner.”

“One more text,” Mary thought to herself, but it was too late; her arm touched Glen’s arm by accident as she leaned in too much.  Glen’s face turned bright pink as he glared at Mary with one thousand burning suns, straightened up and moved the stool to the right as much as there was available space, almost hitting the next stool to his right where a two-meter man with big muscles was sitting…

He then proceeded to text away.  Mary kept trying to catch another glimpse of the text conversation, she needed to find out if Simon was okay and if Glen would be able to manipulate Simon into picking him up for a restaurant meet-up, pay for his food at the restaurant and then drop him off at his place.

A woman entered the room, she was casually dressed and her hair was placed into a bun. She scanned the room as fear penetrated through her and settled somewhere. Finally, she came over to the corner, while bumping into some people who were walking in rounds and ended up near the young man, Glen, who was drinking his coffee.  There were no more chairs and stools left.

Glen noticed the stare, he looked up.  The woman was still catching her breath from running and searching for the right room, she had a look of “I need to sit somewhere, or otherwise, my feet will be hurting,” and the young man had an answer look “go away, I won this spot fair and square, shoo, shoo.” The lady turned around and walked toward the painting.  She was looking at the painting for quite some time.  Her pink purse fell out of her hands on the floor and she slowly walked into the painting and disappeared.

Out of nowhere, there came a loudspeaker announcing who is next, “number two hundred and forty-eight point one.”  The person that was circling around the room and ripping tiny little papers ran to the washroom. Another person who was standing in the doorway walked across the room, his nervousness quickly diminished and his confidence illuminated across the room.

People stared at the man, they had some uncomfortable feeling lurking and at the same time, they were all laughing at him, laughing at his predetermined future, laughing at his calm walk.  The wooden door was unlocked just for that one person. The man opened the door and disappeared and that was it. He never came out of that mysterious room.  Hours passed by and more people filled in the overcrowded room.

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