literature

Sixty Minutes

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Literature Text

Sixty Minutes


Late. Late. Late.
Five minutes went by and I didn’t hear anything from him.
I kept insuring my self that he was just running a little behind.
Fifteen minutes ticked on and still he didn’t show.
My clock might be a few minutes fast.
Twenty minutes gone.
Maybe he ran into problems at work.
Thirty minutes flashed by.
I could feel my heart sinking.
Forty Minutes withered away.
My time was growing increasingly short.
Fifty Minutes crawled past.
My tiny glimmer of hope just died.
Sixty Minutes.
And I felt so crushed that I was just stood up.



© Johannah Doll
Thanks Devin ;-)
© 2005 - 2024 FearaJinx
Comments6
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LauraMaybrooke's avatar
Well, it would royally suck to be on the receiving end of that! This here is very laden with emotions, firstly and mostly, there's this urgency, annoyance and then the sinking hope, all shining through the words. And all that in such a few actual words. So much different things to feel in just sixty minutes. Thanks for a good (albeit sad in subject) read!