They had called everyone’s name
The nurses had checked the
sign-in sheet
and yet he waited
The staff was itching to call it a day
some of the Doctor’s had
already gone
yet he waited
“Someone needs to go out there,
ask his name – who is he here
to see?"
Lights in the rest of the
building were being
turned out
The annoying background music had run its course
and the silence was now eerie
Aggravation taking hold -
Mary entered the waiting room
“Excuse me Sir, did you have
an appointment?”
No answer came – no
acknowledgement
for his waiting had also run its
course
- - - - - -
We
believe what the author is talking about here is the cold isolation that awaits
us all. Each of us unable
to catch the second hand, failing to decipher the scribbled note we find in the
bottom of our coat pocket, yet knowing it is somehow important.
- - - - - - -
Well I don't think that's what he's saying at all.
I believe its an indictment of our society's excessive
use of Post-it notes. Each of us abandoning our own
cognitive ability and relying too much on external media.
The less self reliant each of us becomes the more likely
we are to fall through the cracks like this poor chump did.
- - - - - - -
"I just found it depressing. Also, I like it better
when there's pictures.
I'd like to see a picture of the note found in the pocket.
I should also add that after years of using Post-its
I discovered there really isn't any need to lick them first."
