She's Late

Five minutes. The universe has given us all a 59-second window to arrive anywhere on time, and yet...

Ten minutes. I glance around. Lots of late arrivals to the Tipsy Pig tonight, it seems.

Fifteen minutes. I don't like being late, and it drives me crazy when others are. Why am I still here?

Twenty minutes. I'm not desperate. I get up and move into the revolving door. And there she is, rounding into the building while staring at her phone, not seeing me.

Instead of rounding back in, I exit and head to the curb.

Enough disrespect tonight.


100 Words in 100 Seconds

Links You May Need