Agonisingly, the clock ticked slowly, spelling out each second as if it were toying with her emotions.
She watched, with perspiration dripping down her forehead, a thin trickle of it sliding down the bridge of her nose and stopping precariously at the tip, almost afraid to fall and disrupt the seriousness of the moment.
With superhuman effort, she held it for another six seconds and then exhaled noisily, letting out all the pent-up breath that had nestled in her lungs.
Her opponent slumped in defeat, seated across from her, having missed it by a mere two seconds.
Triumph spread across her chubby, ten-year-old face as she looked at the chalkboard in the Tree House, where her name would now be displayed, right alongside the title, ‘ Power Puff Girl’.
Written for Five Sentence Fiction's Prompt: Waiting
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Today is Day 21