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Description
I sat on the cold brick wall outside my house, waiting. In the same way I had been waiting every day after school until it got dark, every Saturday I was free and every Sunday after church. I sat until I no longer felt the coldness of the bricks, nor their uncomfortableness.

Today a man passed me by. Minutes passed and a second man passed, older than the first. The traffic zipping past on the road was a dull, familiar hum in my ears. A teenage couple walked past, schoolbags slung over their shoulders. A mother, young child and dog came past next. A while later, another man approached. This man was different from the others though, because he stopped.

He fixed me with a strange look in his eyes and said,
"What are you doing sitting on that wall?"
"I'm waiting." I simply replied.
"What are you waiting for?"
I gazed over the road, seeing through the cars.
"Not what, but who." I said. A small smile crept over the mans lips as he pushed his hands into his pocket.
"All right then. Who are you waiting for?"
"I'm waiting for the man who carries star dust in his hands."
"What is his name?" I was asked, a hint of humour in the voice.
I sighed, looking wistfully across the road at the house opposite, although I wasn't really seeing it.
"No one knows. Some call him The Oncoming Storm. Some the Sainted Physician. He is ancient and forever and is like the heart of the sun. He is fire and ice. Some say that he leaves death and destruction in his wake, but to me, he is living proof that good isn't always nice. He calls himself, The Doctor."

I was fixed under a puzzled gaze now.
"But how will you know him, this doctor of yours? There must be thousands of doctors on this world!"
I shook my head slightly.
"He is not of this world. He travels through time and space in a little blue box. He will show you worlds you've never thought of, sights you've never even dreamed of. And when he meets me, he'll look me in the eyes, grab my hand and shout 'Run!' "

The stranger looked across the street absentmindedly, glanced at me and then turned his head back across the street. Slowly he took his right hand out of his pocket and turning to look at me again, he offered me his hand and his mouth crept into a smile that I'd waited so long to see as it whispered,
"Run..."

Description
I sat on the cold brick wall outside my house, waiting. In the same way I had been waiting every day after school until it got dark, every Saturday I was free and every Sunday after church. I sat until I no longer felt the coldness of the bricks, nor their uncomfortableness.

Today a man passed me by. Minutes passed and a second man passed, older than the first. The traffic zipping past on the road was a dull, familiar hum in my ears. A teenage couple walked past, schoolbags slung over their shoulders. A mother, young child and dog came past next. A while later, another man approached. This man was different from the others though, because he stopped.

He fixed me with a strange look in his eyes and said,
"What are you doing sitting on that wall?"
"I'm waiting." I simply replied.
"What are you waiting for?"
I gazed over the road, seeing through the cars.
"Not what, but who." I said. A small smile crept over the mans lips as he pushed his hands into his pocket.
"All right then. Who are you waiting for?"
"I'm waiting for the man who carries star dust in his hands."
"What is his name?" I was asked, a hint of humour in the voice.
I sighed, looking wistfully across the road at the house opposite, although I wasn't really seeing it.
"No one knows. Some call him The Oncoming Storm. Some the Sainted Physician. He is ancient and forever and is like the heart of the sun. He is fire and ice. Some say that he leaves death and destruction in his wake, but to me, he is living proof that good isn't always nice. He calls himself, The Doctor."

I was fixed under a puzzled gaze now.
"But how will you know him, this doctor of yours? There must be thousands of doctors on this world!"
I shook my head slightly.
"He is not of this world. He travels through time and space in a little blue box. He will show you worlds you've never thought of, sights you've never even dreamed of. And when he meets me, he'll look me in the eyes, grab my hand and shout 'Run!' "

The stranger looked across the street absentmindedly, glanced at me and then turned his head back across the street. Slowly he took his right hand out of his pocket and turning to look at me again, he offered me his hand and his mouth crept into a smile that I'd waited so long to see as it whispered,
"Run..."