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Weekly Contest #49
Lee’s heart was pounding. He was told to wait. There he was—sitting, silently praying. Patiently waiting. Lee wrinkled his little nose from the pungent scent of antiseptic, while people in white moved their legs in haste. Everyone in the pristine, white corridor always seemed to be rushing forward. Despite that, Lee thought they moved like turtles along the marble floor. The clock hanging on the wall before him whispered, “Tick-tock.” Maybe, just maybe, these whispers were like barks of orders to the nurses’ ears. It felt like that ...
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