Overstaying My Welcome
John glanced at the clock, tapping his foot. “You should head out soon,” he hinted, trying to be polite yet firm. His impatience was almost comical.
He hovered like he’d escort me to the curb if necessary. Yet, beneath his polite facade, I sensed frustration.
Despite his insistence, I stayed seated, a silent protest against the unfair treatment I’d witnessed.
My patience held strong as I waited, anticipating the unfolding events.