100-Word Fiction: ‘This Waiting’

A feeling. Grips you how, if, you don’t know. No I cannot eat. She sits down, scrapes the chair across the floor. Time. The clock presses forward a dreaded minute. She should eat. Oh just to stop the thoughts. It won’t be over until it is. Hard as granite. Cold as metal. Steely stone. Bad. She should focus on it, use it. Anger. But it is not anger. It is the mountain of hurt looming. If I heard a song I would… no. Waiting for news. What if? No. That one day if everything just collapsed. It is now, now…