"All things come to he who waits" she used to say to him.
He was cold, tired and wet. It smelled bad in here. The noises outside rang in his ears and made his head hurt.
He felt for Babbit but his hand touched something sharp. He tried not to cry.
“Big boys don’t cry.” She used to say to him.
It started to rain and it sounded like he was inside a tin drum.
“Stop banging that damned drum!” she used to say to him.
He peered over the lip of the dumpster.
She was gone. What else was he to do but wait?
This was written for Thursday Threads 38