They all have been waiting in that infinite space. The talks lessen as time carries away their excitement, until the tic tocs are the unbearable sound filling the room with too much impatience. The destinations vary, sometimes even purposes in the same destination differ, too. The facial expressions shift from enthusiasm to bewilderment and mystification; words become devoid of meanings, as if they are some sort of a time machine, to waste time rather than fast-forward it.
Who controls the silent can control the poor. And who controls the rich can control the ignorant, and finally the end is one: a fine depiction of the coward crowd.
And the waiting is pointless.
©Euphoriaofbritt @ dA.
