The Waiting Game
The city wore its gloom like a heavy coat.
It was daytime, but you wouldn’t know it. The light was weak, barely pushing through the grey.
People moved quickly, heads down, scurrying between shops. They wanted warmth, not the damp air that clung to everything.
I grabbed a cappuccino from Greggs. It warmed my hands and my insides. I stood and watched.
Now and then, I moved. Just enough to keep the cold from settling into my bones. But I stayed. I waited.
It wasn’t easy. Nothing was happening. People were too eager to escape the day. No one lingered. No stories played out.
Still, I waited.
And then she came—a mother with her child. The little girl tugged at her, and quick as a blink, the mother lifted her. Set her on the low wall.
I moved, lining up the shot. The cathedral spire rose behind them, a perfect frame.
I waited a moment more. The mother smiled.
I clicked.
It was a simple thing, a moment between mother and child. But it was enough.
Patience. That’s the key. The photos will come.