The window was waiting for him, covered with tears.

Whoever had smashed the window could wait.

The door and windows could wait.

He saw the window; waited.

"That window won't wait for anyone."

He'd be out of the way in a minute, this passer-by, and behind him the window still waited.

Order at the window, then stake out a seat while waiting.

They would sit by the window, smoking, waiting.

She was staring at the window, poised, waiting.

The invisible watchers filled every window, every opening, thousands of them, waiting, anticipating.