Frayed Patience

Vance

The clock ticks on infuriatingly as I sit in the silent hotel room. Tick, tick, tick. God, I want to rip that thing out of the wall.

My fingers, needing some kind of distraction, pick at the loose threads on the bed sheets. But all the while, my eyes are only fixed on one thing: my phone. It sits silently on the bedside table, unmoving. It’s a constant reminder that she’s not calling me. And