Waiting for a bell ring:
Two strangers sitting across a table.
Pressure is marked with five minutes
And down to the last countable seconds it becomes quite troubling to breathe.
In less than five minutes, sweep a potential lover off of their feet.
There are no sweet nothing’s one or the other can think of because the nightmare of the bell sits on the cleavage of both their minds.
Dim lights, and soft music play in the background. It’s an attempt to create a ambiance, romantic. Although for some it’s become more a choir to use their eyes and between the jazz horns, the stringed instruments ‘neath a layer of chatter it’s ‘come quite arduous to hear.
Dreading through what is horrible about the night, repeating ones self a dozen times.
The bell has rung and now sitting across from the one who hasn’t left the chair is a new face.
Beginning to become comfortable with the stranger that sits on either end of the table, their eyes are softly kissing and the conversation is steady.
Five minutes had never passed so quickly in either of their lives, but the bell had rang heavy.
Do either say goodnight?

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