(This was the closest they had to language arts) Which of these statements best reflects the narrator's attitude in this story? A Waiting Game My legs are beginning to cramp again, and the mixture of creeping twilight with the orange tinge of the streetlamps creates an eerie glow inside my apartment. I have kept track of the passage of time by watching the shadow of my bedpost creep with relentless determination across the wall, using the cracks and water stains as substitute minute marks. I am late for dinner. The occasional flash from my muted cell phone on the far side of the room reminds me of the real world, but I can scarcely afford to make contact now. Any stirring could upset the careful plans I set into motion long ago, and all my efforts would be for nothing. I cannot move until my mission is successful. I can barely resist the urge to twitch. My skin is crawling with the imaginary caresses of a thousand little segmented legs and feelers, but I focus with a will of steel and take a deep breath. The sensation eventually passes. The magazine, the heaviest I could find inside my apartment, is rolled into a tight, death-bestowing cylinder. In case the crudely fashioned weapon proves insufficient, I have a can of poison spray prepared for immediate action. I scrutinize the floorboards, inspecting the quarter-inch slit at the base of the wall where the fiendish beastie escaped me. I search for any sign—a flash of antennae, a shimmering wing—so I can end this epic standoff once and for all. I scarcely even notice the numbness in my calves anymore, or the dull, throbbing ache in my back. You may think by this point that I am on a fool's errand, but there is nothing else that matters. I will not lose. As long as it takes...