Those Who Wait Book Novels & Stories

The back-and-forth had become, over three months, something she was aware of wanting to continue when it wasn’t happening. FROM: piers.devaux@devaux-writes.fr TO: isadora.crane@literarybridge.co.uk SUBJECT: Chapter Seven The scene where Thomas waits for the letter. You have translated attendre as “wait.” This is correct and wrong. Attendre contains within it the waiting and the hoping. The English “wait” is neutral. You wait for a bus. Thomas is not waiting for a bus. He is in a state of suspended anticipation that has made him unable to do anything else.

Just us. *Waiting.*

The waiting is the continuation of the building. ---

He was the top student at Sterling High School, a very outstanding guy. What hurt him most was that the girl he liked really liked that other boy. Year after year, Luther kept telling himself to let her go, that they would never be together in this lifetime. Still, he could not accept it. He had met her first, after all. Like holding a one-way ticket that would never reach its destination, Luther waited for eight years. The pain of longing even drove him to pray at churches again and again. He only wanted one chance, one opportunity to stand before her openly and proudly.

Not waiting for conclusion. Waiting for the first “I” that had never existed before to realize it was about to be born.

I stopped by to grab a business book and spent my time reading it while waiting for my turn. The waiting area was small, just four chairs and a coffee table covered in magazines from three years ago. Beside me was a man sitting in the chair nearest the window, his leg bouncing like he was nervous. As nervous as I was but covered it with a business book when I had no business. He looked up at me and smiled like we've known each other for years. "Are you here for the admin position?" he asked, turning to face me. "Uh…yes," I replied, moving a bit farther from him.

The key remained suspended before the lock. Waiting. Only for Adrian's decision. The white key hovered before the lock. It waited. Not for strength. Not for courage. Only for a choice. Adrian stared at the ancient Gate. Its endless white light illuminated every face around him. The First Reader. Elias. The little girl. The Last Editor. Each of them silently waited. No one urged him forward. No one asked him to stop. Because this decision belonged to no one else. The ancient voice echoed once more.

I took three weeks of sick leave and locked myself in my room. Mom assumed that something had set me off, and knocked on my door after some time. "How about we just call off the transfer, honey?" I didn't even lift my head. "Give me three days' time, Mom. In three days, I'm going to shut everyone up." I'd long forgotten all the knowledge I'd learned in high school, but fortunately, my foundations were still solid. I spread out texts on Amerasian and Borisian literature, as well as some writing guides. Then, I used the Lakernel note-taking method to reorganize the key points. The study methods I'd picked up while preparing for my GMATs were now coming in handy.

That night, Matthew sat on the kitchen floor until morning. It was the first time he had ever looked so defeated. In the past, no matter how late he came home, there was always a light waiting for him. There was always someone sitting on the couch, quietly waiting for him. That was all gone. The big house felt empty, and he was the only one left waiting for daylight. The next morning, Matthew did not bother to change his clothes. He went straight to the office.

That night, after calmly arranging his affairs, I took sleeping pills and lay down next to him. “I’ll be with you soon.” When I opened my eyes again, there was a blinding white light. “Are you okay?” I shot upright and realized I was leaning over my desk. The girl next to me was wiping tears from her cheeks, choking on her sobs. “Emma just went off with Callum. Ugh, finally, love triumphs over everything.” My eyes widened as I looked down at the novel in front of me. It was open to the chapter titled “Please Wait for Me.” The illustration showed him holding my hand, standing by the sea, supporting each other through life.