InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Laconic ❯ At the End of the Line ( Chapter 12 )

At the End of the Line

Word Count: 398

 

He's standing at the very end of the line and his foot is tapping with impatience that sets the usual patient look of an old, wrinkled man apart from him. Although, of course, he would never view himself as that type of old. He is, after all, a worldly scholar.

 

But, the line, to his eyes, is as unmovable as a frozen river, locked in place and leaving him at the very end of it.

 

To him, that's very unfair.

 

He's old, and that in itself should give him the right to fast-moving tills and not this…constant standing and waiting. Especially for his poor, tired and aching feet. (Despite not being old old, he is still susceptible to a few aches and pains…every now and again.)

 

Even if he is a patient man - which, of course, he is - the constant tedium of the beeping of the scanner and the murmuring and bustling of the others around him begins to almost annoy him, as the rhythm his foot taps on the floor indicates the impatience that is beginning to stir within him.

 

The basket is growing most definitely heavier in his arm, and did the shrill voice of the woman in front of him just become shriller? He thinks so.

 

However, patience is a virtue, and with as much time as he has secured behind him in a long line of memories, the long line and boredom of its almost-stillness nearly doesn't bother him.

 

He never thinks he has waited as long as he really has, but it's been so long that when he reaches the checkout, he feels his age descending like fog down on his bent and weary frame.

 

He doesn't mind it, though, not really. The waiting always passes, eventually, and now here he is, carrying the groceries up the stairs and through the doorway, his old voice familiar and comforting in the almost-silence he enters.

 

It's not long now, he thinks half-consciously as he walks into the kitchen, the sweet-not-quite-sad smile of the woman there greeting him as usual.

 

If the choice were put to him, he would never speed it up, even though he might complain if he is still stuck waiting.

 

Because, even in a long line of noisy, shrill people, life has never lost its intricacy.

 

And even a trip to the grocery store means one more story for him to tell.