When am I getting there? This is just not fast enough.
My feet are tapping the floor, and my knees are bouncing.
These seats with their color like the skin of an elephant and texture like a cow's dried hide don't make my wait any easier. There is constant chatter; the teens yelling and begging, and the rush of the fast wind in through the windows.
My impatience grows. Why must this feel like an addiction?
I try to put my mind off of it; I make attempt to think about anything but it. Alas, I cannot; I am mentally crippled. There is a girl sitting in the seat next to mine texting on her phone with a grin on her face. There is a guy behind me guffawing with his wide open mouth, which is the size of a basketball. I am filled with curiosity - are they too victims of addiction?
I rub my face and place my cold fingers over my tired eyes. I command myself to let any other thought through, except what I know what I want to think.
I look up and an explosion of thrill races from my stomach to my throat. A wicked smile settles itself on my face as the vehicle comes to a smooth stop. I take off walking at lightning speed. As I slide to a sudden stop at the door, I fumble with the tangled keys. I forcefully rip apart the mess of headphones and flick away the gum wrappers, to let the keys drop into my hands.
The day is clear. The fast wind slows down to a breeze, and melts across the back of my neck. I open the door with a click; I shove it forward, and let myself in. The backpack slides down my arm to land on the floor. I kick off my shoes and march off towards the kitchen.
I'm here; it lies in this room less than five feet from me. The excitement is unreal. I grab the cabinet handle and pluck it open to reveal the contents. I have sighted God.
I pluck it off the shelf; I pry open the lid. Goodness gracious. The aroma of it swirls its way into my nostrils, and if I closed my eyes I would be in heaven. I open the drawer, find a stainless steel spoon, and dig into it. The spoon slides into the dark brown, heavy, cream-like paste. I pull the spoon back up and close my eyes and take a huge lick. My brain hallucinates, the enzymes prepare themselves, my tongue salivates; it's a 4th of July in mouth!
Aah. Nutella tastes so good.