The Delay

“Sorry folks, but there’s a mechanical problem with the plane. The delay with be significant, so we are going to unload the plane and have you wait in the terminal. We are going to bring a different plane up to the gate, so don’t leave any of your belongings in this one. We apologize for the inconvenience, and will have you on your way as quickly as possible.”

She read the notice in what she hoped was a normal voice. Then she stepped back to let the people deplane. She could feel the nose of the gun in her back as the man behind her smiled at the departing people.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the delay.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “The Delay”

  1. “We had an eight o’clock reservation,” Paulie said, “we were here at eight. meanwhile it’s nine-thirty and I’m growing mushrooms outta my ass waiting on this bar stool for them to seat us.” he downed his scotch angirly.
    “all right,” I said, “I’ll go see whats the hold up.” I left him at the bar, muttering curses under his breath, and walked over to the hostess. I smiled and said, “Excuse me, Ma’am, I don’t mean to cause trouble here, but we had an eight o’clock reservation…DeMeo, party of Two, and we’ve been here since eight, but you haven’t seated us yet. I’d like to know what the delay is, why you haven’t seated us?”
    “Ma’am, I wish we could accomodate you,” she said, “but we havea VIP guest who requested privacy, and as soon as that guest and his party have finished, we’ll seat everybody else.”
    I stood on tiptoes and attempted to peer over her shoulder but couldn’t see who the so-called VIP guest was. “This is ridiculous,” I said, “who’s eating in there…President & Mrs. Obama? ALl I know is we had a reservation and we expect you to honor the reservation, goddamn it.”
    She d idn’t answer, so I stomped back to the bar.
    “Well,” Paulie said, “we gonna eat or what?”
    “Not here we’re not,” I told him, “pay for your drink and let’s go.”

  2. The delay was always the cause of his last minute planning. He knew how to get her goat, and this was one of the tactics he always used. Was it done consciously or as a dismissive tactic? She had no answer to that, but she’d figured if he knew this bothered her, why was he intent on continuing to do it? This and many other little things had culminated in the ever-growing chasm between them.

  3. You need to decide now. No pressure mind you, but it is imperative that you make the right choice this instant. The small voice in my mind annoyed me and I hate making decisions under pressure. After moments of agonizing indecision, I pull the rip cord. The delay means I only break my leg on landing, rather than becoming a pancake spread across the field.

  4. He’s really sick. He is in great pain. He’s no sissy. My sister, his wife, has dementia and couldn’t take him to the ER so I did. He gave me all the documents I needed to have him registered. The intake man showed his concern as he prepared the paperwork. It didn’t seem to be a time of day for overload. The ER disease, “the delay”, took over however. We waited almost an hour before Steve was called for examination. I’ve had it happen to myself in the case of a broken wrist; I accompanied a friend coughing blood. We waited – and waited – and waited. The same thing happened more than once with internal bleeding. Why always the delay? The only immediate passages from the outside world to the world of emergency medicine appeared to be those few times a dear one arrived by ambulance. Lesson learned. Avoid the delay. Call 911. Doors will open. Access will be yours or for those you care about.

  5. Oh God, what is more painstaking than being pregnant and having the birth delayed. You are as big as a Zeplin balloon waddling around. You feel as if a bowling ball is ready to come bouncing right out of your body. Tick-tock, tick-tock. You seem to hear every little movement of the clock moving forward in time. In the meantime, the telephone is ringing off the hook. “Are you still here?” “My God, haven’t you had the baby yet?” “I hate to bother you but I just thought you would be home and able to talk about your new baby.” It goes on and on. Finally, ten extremely long days later you are rushed to the hospital’s delivery room. There the physician pokes his head in the tiny room where you’ve been prepped. “Do you think you can hold on? We’ve an emergency here.” Of course, what does a good Catholic woman always do? Gives in. Of course, I can wait. At long last, you are wheeled into the delivery room and given drugs, as requested this time. You wake up asking, “Isn’t it here yet?” Surprise! It is. It’s a nice big baby boy weighing in at nine pounds and eight ounces. Whoopee!!! Good thing they finally helped you enter the world.

  6. All the people waiting listlessly around, gathered together, cocking their ears, when the intercom crackled to life .
    ‘The train would arrive now ,” The recorded voice informed, “In a few moments .”
    A collective sigh rose , and all took their positions , slinging bags , zipping up purses, dunking plastic water bottles into dustbins.
    “In a few moments , humph.” An old ex-army man piped up.” We have been waiting for ages , This delay is inexcusable .”
    Few voices sniggered in agreement.

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