Shifting Waiting Room Ideas の小説・ストーリー

I shoved the thought aside, I have a meeting, I should be focused on that. When I got into the waiting room it was empty, furnished like a luxury lounge instead of the wait room it was supposed to be. A staff member approached and offered me coffee and snacks. I refused once, then twice, before finally accepting so I wouldn’t look strange sitting there with nothing in my hands while watching her give to people who sat for a few seconds and left. An hour passed as I scrolled endlessly on my phone, trying to find even a single photo of the infamous, feared D’Angelo. Nothing. No face. No features. No trace at all, all I saw where rumors, women fangirling over a man they've never seen.

“Veronica is there something you want to say?” “No sir. It’s just that every time you mentioned you needed something to do with that room and I talked about turning it to an office or private waiting room for your special guests you’ve rejected the idea saying you don’t want your office crowded.” I have always wanted my personal space at work and that’s why I have a waiting room for my visitors and I have business meetings in the meeting room. If I was going to successfully accomplish my plan, I wouldn’t be able to do it from a thousand miles. Veronica’s office is a stone throw from yours and why not invite her into your bed since you want her very close to you.

I yell at him. One of the nurse’s comes around the corner, “Would you prefer a private room to wait in?” she asks discreetly. I realize there are others sitting in the waiting room. People I had not seen when I first came in. I stomp off behind her, leaving the others to follow, if they wanted to.

Occasionally, the distant sound of footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor, a constant reminder of the bustling activity happening just beyond her reach. Unable to sit still any longer, she stood up and began pacing the small waiting room. Her footsteps echoed against the polished floor, a restless rhythm that mirrored the frantic beating of her heart. She clasped her hands together, seeking solace in their warmth, as her thoughts raced and her fears multiplied. Her restless pacing caught the attention of an elderly woman sitting nearby. Her weathered face held a compassionate expression as she offered a gentle smile. "It's never easy waiting, dear. But we have to trust in the han

Nothing more. The waiting room was tucked at the end of a quiet corridor, far enough from the main hospital wing that the noise of the day faded into a low hum behind me. A soft instrumental version of some pop song played from hidden speakers, meant to calm the nerves of the women sitting around me. It didn't calm me. I glanced at the clock, then at the door, then back at the clock again, unable to settle on anything for more than a few seconds at a time.

He went through the doors. I sat down in the nearest plastic chair. I stared at the ceiling. The waiting room had the specific quality of all waiting rooms, which was the quality of a place designed to contain people in a state of suspension, neither here nor there, caught between the thing that had happened and the thing that had not happened yet. Fluorescent lighting. The ambient noise of a building that was busy in other rooms. A television in the corner showing something with the volume low enough to be heard but not followed.

Elara's POV The waiting room had twelve chairs and I had counted them twice. It was the kind of thing you did when you were trying not to think about something — you counted chairs, you read the notice board, you studied the pattern on the floor tiles until you had memorised it completely and could have reproduced it from memory at three in the morning if required. Which, given my recent sleeping patterns, was not outside the realm of possibility.

We staggered into the hallway, leaning on each other, laughing like kids sneaking out. Then she gasped and pointed. “There! VIP Room 92. When someone walks out of that room, if he’s hot, that’s your guy. Deal?” I giggled. “Deal.” I leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossed. We waited like kids waiting for candy. Five minutes passed. Then ten. No one came out. “This is taking forever,” I mumbled. Kezzy grinned like a madwoman. “If no one comes out soon, just go inside. I don’t care if he’s fifty and bald. As long as he’s got working swimmers.”

We schedule an appointment with her to meet in the coming days. When that time comes, Arthur and I are in her waiting room outside her office. Luckily, she doesn’t work anyone but herself, s owe don’t have to worry about other patients coming in and recognizing us. The very last thing we want is word getting out that the Alpha couple is seeing a shrink, especially after my recent front page appearance. I wonder what genius headline they’ll come up with for that story. Her waiting room is calming. She has grayish hardwood floors paired with soft sky-blue painted walls. The corners of the room are decorated with different plants in hand painted ceramic vases. She has landscape pictures neatly

I sign my name. Return the clipboard to the receptionist. “Perfect.” She files the papers. “Please have a seat. Someone will call you shortly.” I look around the waiting room and see that it has three other people seated. A woman about my age, flipping through a magazine. An older man in a business suit, checking his phone. A younger guy who looks nervous, bouncing his knee. I wonder what packages they’ve booked. What fantasies they’re here to explore. None of us make eye contact.