Wednesday, November 13, 2013
100 Words a Day 454
He sat in the waiting room. His twitching foot created a regular rattle as his laces banged against his old, black shoes. The only other indication of his nervousness was how hard he gripped the armrest. Even that was subtle and anyone looking at him would have thought him bored. His breath was related and his heart rate was low, but he could feel it pound with worry. She had been in with the doctor for a while. There was nothing he could do, and he accepted that, but it did not stop him from wishing fervently that he could.