I imagine myself leaving this place, and being met out front by a crowd controlling water cannon filled with antibacterial gel that will violently hose off the cooties that have climbed aboard as I lay in the sunken mattress, wide awake, waiting for morning to set me free.

I hate hotels… even the nicer ones. This one, definitely not a nicer one, makes me wonder what a prison cell is like. The generic components of a hotel room are as follows: a bed, a desk, a closet, a bathroom, and a tv. Some have a fridge and a safe. If this room had a fridge, I’d put my suitcase in it. It would be the only spot in the room where I’d be safe from infestation, and I’d rather not have stow aways come home with me.

My tv is off, because it’s election time, and political ads, like telemarketing phone calls, pull me out of whatever mood I’m in with a new mission- make it stop… So no tv.

Sleep eludes me. I give up. I’m up, out the door and out into the dark night before the walls of the room close in on me any more. The crisp night air is as still as the the deep waters I’ve recently emerged from. A tear escapes my eyes. I blame the acrid city air, and the trash that’s been set out for collection in the morning.

Tomorrow: meetings, proposals, paperwork, and onto another hotel.
Oct 30, 2014
Trio No. 3
Today you can write about anything, in whatever genre or form, but your post must mention a dark night, your fridge, and tears (of joy or sadness; your call). Feel free to switch one ingredient if you have to (or revisit one from previous trio prompts).

http:///2014/10/30/daily-prompt-trio-no-3-fridge-talk/ AM | A lot from Lydia AM | A lot from Lydia

2 thoughts on “Hotels

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