Waiting, But For What?
Previous - this entry written on July 29, 2003 at 12:54 am - Next
A full day, you're certain of that much. The room has warmed somewhat, your presence and the single bowl of steaming broth that was exchanged for the clothing chasing away at least some of the chill. A full day spent waiting.
*slight smile* Patience, as well as the flashes of hunger and the confusion that touches you... impatience as well, hoping and praying.
Your words are... satisfying? Yes, I think that's the word I'm after. Not satiating, not yet. Not enough to draw the poison out of my coldness just yet and certainly not enough to release you from that room, but enough to ensure that this contact will be instructive rather than simply vicious.
That small room, one room, still cool and still alone, that is where you will be for the next 24 hours, small boy. I know you'll not be able to remain there when at work, I know there will be times when it becomes impractical. Other than those, you WILL remain there where you've been put. One blanket to cover you, a second in place of the straw. Simple food, and the knowledge that each bite is a kindness, a gift, that you will have to repay soon. No clothing. No company. You may go online but you will NOT speak to anyone else directly - this means no online games, no messaging anyone except me, none of it. I want you aware of your place, of yourself...
...and of me.
Footsteps walking by more often now, murmured voices, your name... you know that there is something approaching, that something is waiting for the right moment, or perhaps for the right action on your part. No clues, no hints, nothing but that constant awareness that although you are alone, you are not forgotten. Not forgotten - and perhaps not entirely pleasing.
*stretches, yawning slightly* It's 1:14 AM as I am typing this, 1:14 on a late Monday or early Tuesday. You have 24 hours to read this, to reply...
...and to let me hear your voice.
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