Promising

I keep checking the time Master. Over and over again, yet it refuses to fly for me. Minutes drag on endlessly and the day doesn't seem to get any closer to ending.

I grab my phone to open your message again. I must have seen it a dozen times this morning, but still it sends chills of expectation running down my back, and I catch myself glancing at the clock on my monitor. Silly rabbit.

Your message, Master. No words, just an image.

An image of a beautiful black rope, menacingly wrapped around your big strong hand.

Now if only the day would go faster...