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She Waits

They tell her that patience is a virtue, that if she exercises it, good things will come to her. The universe is on her side and just needs to see her dedication to the cause to reward her.

“Wait, wait, be patient, it will all work out.”

And so she waits.

They tell her that the other guy, that woman who had half a brain but double the bust, was promoted because failing forward happens sometimes. Sure, this woman has the title, but that’s as far as she’ll ever go. If she’s a little more patient and keeps her head down (nose to the keyboard, fingers ever tapping, eyes sharp), things will turn out right. She’ll be noticed and shot forward even faster.

“Wait, wait, be patient, it will all work out.”

And so she waits a little longer.

Her friends tell her to not change herself at all. The right man, or woman, lady’s choice of course, will come along and adore her for all the qualities and reasons they adore her. Her parents tell her to stay close to home and there will be time to travel and see the sights in the nearby future. Her preacher tells her God personally rewards the faithful in this life and the next. Her heart does not agree, but her mind, her mind says:

“Just wait, wait, you’ve waited long enough, this will payoff. It has to. Be patient.”

And so she keeps waiting.

She waits until her hair starts to fade from lustrous black to silver-shoot. She waits until her fingers tire from beating the same drum on the same old plastic keys, and her vision dims, her face slacks, and her heart goes hoarse and finally quiet from its ignored cries.

She waits and waits and waits herself to ashes.

She waits and waits and waits herself to dust.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

March 2013
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