Crowley shorts

Waiting in line

Sloshing through all the dank and darkness you wait. Moving inch by inch in a never-ending line. Your brain hasn't worked in a very long time because it hasn't had to. You can look at the wall, your shoes, to the wall at either side or at the back of the person in front of you. The heat was constant and it was miserable. You've stopped crying due to lack of tears and your throat was sore from all those years screaming. Getting to the point where you saw doors you wish you could get excited because you were finally towards the front of the line. All you could do was take another step forward. Then no one was in front of you and it was your turn to see the king. Shuffling in and keeping your head down and not making eye contact you walk till you hear someone tell you to stop. You hear some mumbling and something about the sins you've committed. Then you feel an elbow in your ribs, "you look at the king when he talks." You look up and he doesn't take his eyes off the paper in front of him. "A little more time to fester for this one. Next!" You were whisked away and pushed through a door. Before you knew it you were at the back of the line, putting one foot in front of the other.