Waiting

[snorsorbet]

This is something I wrote in swedish class quiet a while ago... I posted it here because:

• I wanted to try to translate a not-too-long text.
  
• I want to hear your opinions about the short story.
  
• I was bored.

He gazed nervously at his worn-out watch, and then looked around in the decent room. One could see the
street filled by stressed people through a light window.
Soon.
He threw a quick gaze at his blue jeans, and took of his black, sturdy cap to get something to fiddle with.
Suddenly he arose from the warm and brown sofa, and started to stray between the white walls. The only
thing sounding in the room was his jeans, who lightly touched eachother for each step he took, and the
highly polished shoes' knocking against the floor, which echoed in the big room. He studied the irregular
mosaic on the floor with a sharp look. At a first glance the floor only looked gray, but after having studied
it more carefully he had found all but one color in the fascinating mosaic, and that was bright red.
He stopped tapping on his cap and put it down in his roomy pocket inside his coat. He held up the watch
against his ear and listened to the ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. He unconsciously started to silently beat time
with his foot in rate with the ticking. He moved his left hand to his right and started to roll with his thumbs.
When would they come?
His look fell stressed on the sturdy door.
Very soon.
He went back to the fluffy sofa to sit down and count cars driving by.

He heard a door handle being oushed down and his look swept like an eagle to the door.
The men he had been waiting for entered.


Thanks for reading (I hope it was short enough for you to have the energy to read it, lol :P).

Please post spontaneous thoughts, and of course, critique, and once more: Thanks for reading!