The Mailbox

There is nothing for me to do at present other than while away the time, waiting and waiting patiently for a few inches of parchment to roll into my mailbox, in anticipation of a life-changing decision. I spend my time reading to take my mind off it. I return to my first love ― the piano. It works for a while, however, that gnawing sense of fear and apprehension soon returns, and I rush to check the mailbox... for the fifth time that day. Alas! It is empty. I go back to my routine, making conscious attempts to breathe, blink, eat, drink. I talk, I laugh... the sound rings hollow in my ears. The day ends, night descends, there is nothing I can do but wait. Perhaps, tomorrow...