Waiting Room

Continued from previous post.

***

It was like those numbers taken by people waiting to be served at the the local butcher's. Ben had one too, he realized. He opened his fist and examined the crinkled paper. Had he always had it?

The number on the ticket was really long. The numerals were small, and they seemed to be flickering. That was strange. Squinting, Ben brought it closer to his face and realized they were wriggling around, switching places. They refused to stay in one place and be read.

"You won't be able to read it." The boy sat across from him, flipping through a sports magazine without looking up. "I haven't figured out mine yet."

"I don't understand--do you know why we're here?"

The old woman next to Ben started snoring softly; her head nodded onto his shoulder.

The kid shrugged and turned a page. "Nope. Doesn't matter."

"Where are your parents?"

"Dunno."

"Don't you care?"

He shrugged again. "They're around here somewhere."

Ben ran his hand through his hair and sighed--

And woke up. He propped himself up on an elbow and blinked in the morning light.

"Weird." Ben dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, wondering if he had any toffees. Maybe if he met the old woman again she'd offer him one.

He paused in the middle of measuring out his ground coffee. Not that he'd meet her again, because that had just been a dream. Ben shook his head and laughed softly to himself.

***

I'm bored with this already... Writing ADD?