The Door Past Monday. Chaper Two. Wait.

Wait.  

I believe that I have been in the room for a long while.  I will be waiting for some time longer I suppose, but I don’t quite remember why or how long I have been here.  Aside from the receptionist, who’s attention is is elsewhere, no one has been in this room.  I have been sitting, waiting, alone. Occasionally the receptionist does step outside for a cigarette as I just sit and wait and continue to wait even more.  Time goes by slowly.  Nothing more seems to happen.  I look up and see a large aquarium swirling, empty of all life.  Once in a while the receptionist calls a break over the intercom system and I can hear people scurry about for what is fifteen minute, exact,  outside the closed door, and after those precious fifteen, all is silent again.

Then it is again another long time of nothing.  Soon my attention finds itself looking downward at my shoes and then the grey speckled linoleum tiles on the floor, all in nice little squares.  It does seem to match the purple furniture and grey walls of the waiting room.  Nothing and still sitting quietly, waiting and waiting. . .  My eyes begins lose focus and I look down clearing my head, my thoughts, then noticing a swirl forming in one of the tiles.  I look up to the receptionist who is always seemingly preoccupied with her work, oblivious to me sitting across the room and waiting for any acknowledgement.  I look again at that tile, looking right at the swirl forming, it is getting larger, looking like a maelstrom galaxy swirling about.

I look closer and closer still, the swirling galaxy pulls my attention, for a moment absorbed, lost and then I look up, disorientated and briefly confused.  I sit up and the little maelstrom is all about gone but for a spot the size of a dime.  It stays swirling about the gray speckled square tile, doing nothing more.  I sit still and let things within clear and focus.  I take a breath, really a sigh and when I look up, I see that I am not in the same room.  The tiles on the floor are the same and all is in its right place, just it is all different.

It is the warm tones of the walls and furniture that I first take notice of compared to the tired and worn purple of before.  The aquarium is full of fish, but I don’t believe these are fish that really exist.  These are truly strange and almost alien to me. The receptionist for the first time all day is looking right at me and even she looks different, more perfect and porcelain in her looks, a look that seems to care.  She looks right into my eyes for the first time, I feel a little more than lost as she give a slightest of smiles and nods her head towards the door which is now open.  I stand up now and step carefully over the swirl in the tile and walk out of the room.

What, who have I been waiting for?  Whatever is at the door in the end of the many halls I walk down is an answer.  I navigate along the long narrow halls with faded pink walls and numerous pink doors, closed and to either side.  Uncomfortably numb and muggy in the hallways, I make my way all the way to the end of one where I see the brighter rose red door, which is also closed.  This is the go I choose and I stand in front of this door and read a nice, little, sign hanging from the doorknob.  “Please enter, but knock first.”  A polite sign, I knock and not hearing anything, open the door and enter.

... ...This chapter is the short short story that set everything in motion for "The Door Past Monday." It was supposed to be a stand alone piece, something that I enjoy performing at spoken word events. However, friends and fans of my storytelling have asked me to continue the story. I added a prologue which serves as chapter 1. It's called Patience, it continues with Wait. Now, what happens after the door... ...