Sitting, staring.
The screen in front of me flashes from channel to channel, my eyes following each figure's laugh as they flash on in my vision and are quickly replaced.
A timid knock sounds on my door.
"Enter." I already know who it is.
The boy enters, head low, eyes covered by his mop of hair. "Sir? They are waiting."
I turn off the endless stream of empty noise and lean back, letting my eyes trace the ceiling's cracks, the weight of the sky almost seeming to crush it towards me. "You've been watching them, yes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you know."
The boy nods once, leaves. The television turns itself back on. Faces crying now, screaming--at me.
"They know...." I murmur. "I must wait for them."
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