My mother’s patience is like a furious fire on a windy night. My patience, however, slithers across the ground like a snake waiting to attack. My dad’s patience resembles a receding ocean before a tsunami on a sun-drenched summer day. My girlfriend, Alayna’s, patience is a snapping turtle under the surface of a dark pond. My friend Jordan’s patience is thin like tissue paper.

Much like fire, my mom’s patience can be set off by lots of things—slow people, sarcasm, disrespect, waiting in lines…but my patience sits and bundles together until someone or something makes it burst. My dad’s patience seldom takes action, but when it does it explodes. It whips and stings like the air on a windy winter day. Alayna’s patience is similar to my mother’s but takes a calmer approach. It idly burns like a hot bowl against a hand. And finally, Jordan. Her patience is fragile and doesn’t take much to snap. When her patience breaks, it breaks quickly like a stiff stick.