The Waiting Game
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 36 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
She promised she'd meet me here. It was our favorite place in all the world and it had the benefit of being a place that no one would think to look for us: a small cafe named "Kis Nyúl" in the remote town of Zics, Hungary. Nothing about our separate and secret lives could possibly link us to this small, Hungarian hamlet.
I tapped my fingers nervously on the rim of my empty coffee cup. I couldn't tell if it was the anticipation or the caffeine giving me the jitters.
One hour passed, two hours, three, four.
I sighed with the weight of an elephant. It rumbled in my heart to its very core.
Finally, it became time to leave. I couldn't sit here forever like I wanted. I had a mission halfway across Europe soon and needed to make it to the extraction point to catch a helicopter out of here.
I left enough forints on the table for my coffee and I generous tip. No reason for the waiter to be shafted too.
I stood up, pushed my chair in and walked away from a broken promise. I just hoped she hadn't be captured...
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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Whatever your story, it must include a promise. One that was kept, or one that was broken. Remembered forever or long forgotten. Any sort of promise will do.
- Published 1 year ago.
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