The sound. It was always the sound that terrified her the most and it didn’t get any better, no matter how often she heard it.
Fidgeting in her chair, she watched as the second hand on the clock before her moved like a snail. Move faster, she willed it fiercely, hoping her angry glare would do the trick.
“Getting restless, are we?” The voice boomed in the room, startling her. “An impatient patient is never a good thing,” he said, cackling at his own joke.
She wished she could reach for a sharp instrument and stab the dentist with it.
Welcome to The Moving Quill!
For this year’s A to Z Challenge, I’ve taken up the theme of
An Oxymoron rendered in micro-fiction.
Each day’s title will have one half of the oxymoron while the second half will be revealed towards the end of the post.
Follow me as I unravel each tale in exactly 100 words.