Waiting

"So when are we gonna start?" "I told you already, we're going to wait until the sun's gone down before we do this. If we jump the gun, we'll mess it up and it'll all be for nothing." Jerry sighed at this. I don't blame him, with all the stress we've been under during the last few weeks; but now's not the time to be anxious, we need to stay focused. The last several minutes Jerry and I haven't been doing anything but watching and willing the sinking sun to move faster. We've signalled our counterparts, two more figures crouched behind the next rise, several times with the hand mirror in order to coordinate the teams' actions, but I still feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. The tools have been meticulously laid out in front of me for a while now, laid out in a row. We've got everything ready--just don't jump the gun. I watch breathlessly as the smallest portion of the deep crimson sun dips below the horizon and Jerry and I meet eyes and give the smallest of nods. Time to start. The feeling of my fork dipping into moist cake fills my senses and I begin to drool like one of Pavlov's pooches. The taste is even better, like the first breath of air at the surface of the water. "Jeez," I remarked between bites, "Lent lasted forever this year, right?"