The Wait

At the stroke of midnight…

He couldn’t keep his eyes from the ticking clock.

Seconds rolled to mark a minute. Each passing second made him more desperate.

His mind was fogged, his senses dull.

He couldn’t bear this any longer. He wanted to attack, but resisted.


The buzzer rang.

His Maggi was ready.

* This is my first attempt at 55-fiction.

The song on my mind: Tumsa nahin dekha ~ Tumsa nahin dekha

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda


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