The waiting game

waiting

It was a waiting game. A game played by a confused soul wandering aimlessly aloof, adrift the craziness surrounding it somehow taking all in stride.
On the surface it portrayed an aura of listlessness. Nothing showed save that plain facade, upholding a constant level of normalcy expected from all.
Numbness was etched into every crevice of a face so enchanting and eyes so confrontational, just daring you to hold them for a minute too long.
The game was life, and he was a player, as were all the others. The destination was final. What set them apart was how they each chose to get there..

nadia nawaz