patiently, patience, patients

The sobbing was soft. Almost unnoticeable. Then came the wailing. That was loud. What did not accompany, but if you closed your eyes was evident, was the hair pulling pain that it evoked. The air conditioner hummed softly. He tried to keep his face straight. This was ridiculous. He had to stop himself from laughing. He knew how inappropriate it was. Given the wailing and given the situation that had caused it. One of them had caught it. Soon, the others that worked there would catch it too, and then it would be their turn. “We’ll just send them home. We won’t let them in.” Too late for that, he thought grimly, but with laughter bubbling inside of him. Too late for that. I guess fear does override your desire to have servants. He shook his head slightly. Trying to shake away his thoughts imperceptibly. He put his mask on. Useless piece of shit. It didn’t matter. But what it did help with was hide his smile. He didn’t have to stop himself from smiling anymore. The wailing continued. He shouldn’t be laughing. But he was. In silence. Behind the blue, overused mask. It probably wouldn’t provide any protection anyways. Why had they even asked him to wear it. To minimize the chances? When you let them into the house, and they are ninety five percent likely to bring it in, then why bother with the other five percent. Sigh. And now you’re going to stop them from entering. After we’ve all probably caught it? Now it’s just a matter of waiting for the symptoms to manifest. Then the game begins. He wondered what would happen if they asked him. He knew what would happen if they asked him. He wouldn’t answer. Or he’d give some socially appropriate response. In his head, he would keep the truth locked. Close to his chest. Close to his desires. I hope it finishes me. Don’t have to kill myself. Can just die a free man. Can just be free. I hope it takes me. What a life. His smile grew wider. What would happen next. Well, they’d take patient zero to the hospital. And then they’d come and test all of them. He wasn’t worried. You worried when you were afraid. He wanted it to come for him. If it didn’t, no matter. If it didn’t, life was full of risks and chaos. It would get him eventually. It was all just a waiting game. They would come for him. In their hazmat suits, making this a bigger deal than it was. They would take him. They would test all of them. And if they got it, they would go to the hospital. There too, it was a waiting game. No one knew how it would be fixed. No one knew if it would be fixed. They didn’t have the cure for it. Not yet, at least. Tick tock, tick tock. Waiting. Patiently. Patience. Patients. All of them. Especially him. He closed his eyes, and imagined the sweet relief of freedom.