The Waiting Room- Creative Writing

The Waiting Room- Creative Writing
The waiting room was still and quiet except for the hypnotic tick of
the old plastic clock hanging on the wall. A smell evoking images of
latex gloves and mouthwash hung in the air, as the dentist worked
behind the closed door. The little boy across the room fidgeted
uncontrollably while his mother chose to ignore it. Her face was drawn
and pale. Her hands were placed on top of her lap and she wrung them
continuously. She wore baggy red patterned trousers, a multi-coloured
striped jumper and on her head was a faded red bandana, firmly sealed
over a mass of scruffy brown curls. The child?s brown hair stuck out
in all directions. His coat was dated, his tracksuit bottoms gathered
around his ankles, and his black shoes hung of his feet with the
frayed laces draping downwards.
The white washed walls in the waiting room revealed not a spot of dirt. The navy carpet was woven and the red seats were covered in a plastic ? wipe clean? material. Eyes delivered across to the large wooden door as the silver handle turned. The door creaked open and out stepped the dental nurse. She was young, tall and slight. Her ponytail hung over one shoulder, her cheeks were blushed red, mascara made her eyelashes look like spiders legs and her lips were tinted pink. The nurse looked down to her note pad and called, ?Miss Mines, if you?d like to come through, the dentist is ready.? The lady with the odd attire stood up and with her little boy in tow, took a deep breath and walked slowly towards the door. The door to the dentist?s room quietly shut and whispers swept across the waiting room. ?Did you see the state of that little boy, how could his mother leave him to get like that.? Bickered to elderly women in the corner. ?I heard she?s going to court for benefit fraud, claiming the little boy had an illness she was,? the two secretaries behind the desk muttered. Slowly, the gossip calmed and again the only noise in the waiting room was the hypnotic tick of the clock. Minutes passed by and it wasn?t long before the scruffy lady and her little boy stepped out of the dentist?s room and made their way to the secretary?s desk. The secretary looked up. ?Can I help you?? she enquired. The lady didn?t answer but gazed out of the window behind the desk; her big brown eyes were shallow and empty. Her little boy began to tug on her jumper, ?Mummy?the lady?Mummy!? The mother soon snapped out of her daze and scanned the secretary?s face. ?Oh I?m sorry, I got lost in my thoughts then.? She apologised. They arranged appointment for the little boy in a week?s time, and quickly made their way towards the door. As they stepped outside, they were hit by a cool blast of wind. Leaves swirled around them and there was a slight chill in the air. The trees swayed gently in the breeze and their golden leaves glistened in the sun. The mother took the little boys hand and made their way to the town?s park. The park was scattered with children playing in the playground, and mothers sat on the surrounding benches gossiping. Their clothes were tidy and smart; most of the children and their mothers resembled an advertisement for ?Gap? or ?Next?. The mother somehow seemed incongruous among this band of smartly dressed middleclass women. . She glanced at them, gripped the child?s hand tighter and dragged him quickly past them. They were soon out of the park and walked briskly until a huge twelve-storey building halted their progress. The building was made of grey breezeblocks but they had faded from the rain. Some of the windows were smashed, so they were covered with large wooden panels. Iron bars sheltered the rest of the windows; it looked like a prison. The lady crossed the road and the little boy scampered after her. They hurried up to the door of the building keyed in their number and made their way inside. Smashed bottles, crisp packets and cigarette boxes littered the floor. The lift was broken again, so they started to make their way up the eleven floors to their flat. They paced themselves as they made the long journey up the stairs. The little boy stopped at every floor and looked out of the window and watched the city move further away from him. On the seventh floor the lady also took a glance. She looked down towards the park and noticed that the mothers and their children were still there, for once she was bigger than them, they were just little ants. She imagined the homes to which they would return. Cosy coffee mornings and a trip around ?Sainsburys? before preparing their husbands evening meals with the latest mouth-watering treats from ?Jamie Oliver?. After a five-minute trek up the eleven floors, they reached their flat. The mother opened the door and looked in. She gently guarded the child inside before shutting the door behind her.

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