The man stood in the light waiting, unsure of what he was waiting for, but sure that something was coming. He was patient, for he was also sure that to demand an appearance would only serve to lengthen his stay in the light. The man stood facing forward, although how he knew which direction was front or back was a mystery to him, not turning his head left nor right, his eyes focused on a point in the distance.
The man thought he was wise.
He thought he was patient.
The man was a fool.
Had he only looked to his left, he would have seen the exit.