He sat, slumped in plastic chair with his
spine slowly taking the shape of the uncomfortably formed backrest. He flicked disinterestedly
through a glossy magazine filled with celebrities he didn’t know getting
married to celebrities he didn’t care about. It was worn, torn and dated but
about the only thing to focus on other than quite how long he had already been
waiting.
‘Mr Grey, Mr Grey?’
He sat upright and placed the magazine on
the seat next to him. He began to rise as she caught his eye.
‘Ah Mr Grey,’ she said ‘We shouldn’t be too
much longer. Would you like a magazine?’ She pointed to a small table that
resembled the produce of a paper shredder.
‘Any clues how much longer it might be,’ he
asked realising his voice sounded as though he wasn’t sure he would live that
long.
‘It really shouldn’t be that long now. Let
me make sure we’ve got all your records.’ She turned and walked off towards the
office.
He sat for a moment then glanced at the
clock. He found it hard to work out quite how long it was since he had first
sat down. He flicked his eyes around the room. There was no one left from when
he had come in. That said many people who had arrived after him had been seen
and left.
He got up and stretched. He wanted to do
something that would make them register he was still there, still waiting. He
walked slowly towards the magazine table and placed the one he had read back on
top. He then stared at the fish tank trying to see if there was anything else
in there except gravel, weeds and water.
Beyond the tank he noticed an alcove with
what appeared to be a comfy chair in it. To give purpose to his change of
position to anyone who was observing him he picked up the same magazine he had
read and strode over to the chair.
In a moment he realised that this padded
chair was infinitely more comfortable than the rigid hard plastic he had
endured for god knows how many hours. The muscles in his back seemed to relax
as he sank back and opened the tatty journal. Here, half hidden from the others
he could at least find peace.
His next moment of clarity was being gently
woken by the cleaner. At first he couldn’t make out what she was saying but a
glance to clock and the realisation it was light outside explained her look of
surprise.
‘Ah well,’ he thought settling back, ‘they open again in half an hour.’
