Waiting Room

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 01, 2017

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Submitted: October 01, 2017

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Waiting Room

Plas and Tique were sitting quietly when the door opened. A woman walked in, moved a couple of magazines, inspected the floor and went to walk out. Just before the door closed an arm snaked around and switched on the light. That was the sign that the day was about to begin.

Morning, Plas.”

Morning, Tique. I swear the nights are going faster each day.”

Ummm?” Tique was confused. “I think you might have your nights and days mixed up. Never mind. Are you all set for another stint of load bearing?”

Well, now that you ask, Tique, I’ll tell you. My leg is playing up a bit. I’m sure it was that kick it got last week.”

Yeah, Plas. Some people just don’t appreciate our efforts. What goes off their legs goes on to ours! Still, that’s what we’re here for, there’s no use complaining.”

Plas and Tique were silent for a few minutes. They were listening intently. A lot could be learnt about what was to come, just by taking the time to try and place the voices.

Oh, no,” exclaimed Tique. “A three year old! I don’t want him. Might be light but they can’t sit still for a second. It’s all wriggle, wriggle, jumping on and off. And they’re none to gentle how they go about it either!”

And there’s Mrs Bailey. I’d recognize her voice anywhere.” Plas gave a little shudder. “She’s alright once she’s down, but that landing....I always expect the floor to break open and swallow the two of us.”

Jim Carter’s there too.” Tique recognized the man’s voice. “You remember him. He rests his boots on our legs and constantly drums us with them. It’s like being attacked by a couple of road drills.”

Oh, no!” exclaimed Plas.

What? Who have you heard? It’s not.....?”

If Plas could have nodded he would have done. “Yes, Tique! The dreaded Rocker!”

Not the Rocker! He’ll have me seasick one of these days!” Tique gave a chair’s version of a shudder.

If he starts rocking on me today, I swear he’ll hit the floor. I’m in no mood for his antics.”

The chairs ceased their talking as the door opened and the first person walked in. They braced themselves, ready for the first posterior to park. The life of a waiting room chair was far from that of an easy one.


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