For the prompt Bed Rest. A touch of angst here.
He stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
This was so BORING!
How much longer would he have to wait?
He heard the door open and the footsteps.
Seven footsteps before the person would come into view.
At this time in the morning – not that there was anything to tell him what time it was – it was probably one of the healthcare assistants to do his personal stuff. They would be joined in fifty-three seconds by the second…yep. Here came the next one.
He closed his eyes and imagined he was lying on a massage table.
Fourteen Minutes and Thirty-Eight Seconds.
The pairs of footsteps receded and he opened his eyes.
That damn ceiling. He closed his eyes again.
Count to five backwards…
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The door flew open and footsteps hurried in.
Three this time, not seven.
He opened his eyes to see the face of his eldest brother smiling down on him.
'Bed rest is over for now, Gordon. Time to get up.'
He smiled.