Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Waiting Game

It was a waiting game.

They can't talk. They can't even let anybody know they were aware of each other's existence.

But it was all thrilling. And they were in for the excitement.

He throws stones at her window, and she pokes out her head and smirked at him. "What are you, a lovesick teenager?"

He frowns. "Just get down here."

She meets him at the sidewalk, the asphalt cold from the melting snow.

"...when is this going to stop?"

He looks up.


"This game... when will we reach that final stage?"

He tilts his head, biting his lip.

"I don't know."

She scuffs her feet at the slush, making patterns at the asphalt with the toe of her shoe.

"I don't know."

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