The waiting room is a universal place , in every known building and person .

It holds onto no deffinitive explanation . Just a certain , uncertainty .

There is no black or white . Just a shady grey colour .

It is neither ; square , rectangular , triangular or circular shape . Just a mass of confusion .

The waiting room is filled with ordely , neat chairs . Always made from a certain kind .

A fish tank . With a handfull of pretty fish and an ugly one . Which always stands out from the rest and sticks onto the glass .

Cluttered brief cases , purses , coats and colouring books . With old and broken crayons .

The waiting room is surrounded by walls and hidden depths .

Filled with different persons . From all shapes , sizes and colours .

All of them are waiting for their own purposes .

Waiting for a resolution .

Waiting for help .

Waiting for a new chance in life .

Waiting for inspiration .

Or ....

Waiting for love .

The waiting room is a universal place , in every known building and person .

Every object and person , needs to find a deffintive ; belonging .

Inside the waiting room .

The End .