Waiting

The day unfolds like a furled up flag slowly revealing its allegiance. Sun peeping timidly over the brow of the hill then blazing gloriously. I feel sick in the pit of my stomach as different scenarios play hide and seek in my head. 'To be or not to be' - that is indeed the question. I want the destination but not the journey; the result, not the process. Fate is tapping on my shoulder. Destiny is knocking at my door. As the vomit hurls from my uncertainty another white feather flutters to the floor.