Ten minutes to eight. Excitement is rising. The blood starts running a bit faster through the veins. Concentration is no longer an obtainable state. Five minutes to eight. Why is the time passing so slowly? Will it never be eight? Three minutes to eight. Will he be calling? Fingers are thumping nervously on the table. Two minutes to eight. Getting up from the chair, feeling restless. One minute to eight. It's about time he'll call now, checking all the clocks in the room. Eight. No sound. Time stands still. Nothing moves. Nothing happens. One minute past eight. He might still be calling. Try not to panic! Three minutes past eight. Where is he? What has happened? Is he sick or has he gotten himself into problems? Five minutes past eight. Maybe he won't call then. Disappointment is rising, the body feels heavy. Ten minutes past eight. The phone rings. Nobody moves for a second. Three seconds more pass before the brain successfully communicates with the rest of the body and the legs start moving. Walking, running. Picking up the reciever. "Hello?"
3 comments:
Hipp hurra for 17 mai! Nei, det var ikke det jeg skulle feire...hei! Vi har fått unnagjort førsteåret på bibliotek og informasjonsvitenskap:)Det er jo en liten bragd i seg selv!
Mr Hanson
Hablas del los minutos en el telefono willow? pero bueno es mejor los minutos cuando estamos juntos......que dices???
Un abrazo fuerte
Tito
Hello. I just wanted to give a quick greeting and tell you I enjoyed reading your material.
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