suite

If I had to tell it, I’d probably start the story at the hotel suite. The sheets had just been changed. The bed was perfectly made, box pleats tucked, not a wrinkle in sight. The wood furnishings freshly dusted, the floor vacuumed. The bathroom smelling of bleach and soap. The room felt so clean, I imagined I was it’s first guest, everything brand new and untouched from before. Then there was a knock on the door, and I froze. No one was supposed to know I had come here. The sun had just set when I had checked-in at the desk; Had I been seen? I cautiously tip-toed my way down the short hall to the door, holding breath as I brought my eye to the peep hole. There I saw that behind the door of where I stood, was a man in suit, tie, and fedora. I caught him inspecting each end of the hallway with a sideways glance. In his hand he held what looked like a small notepad and a ballpoint pen. Clicking it, he tuck the pen into the left hand-side breastpocket and followed with the pad. He knocked again, his head getting really close to the peep hole, fish-eye features bulbous and large. He had aquamarine eyes and looked old and mean. There was no way he knew I was in here, right?

Slowly stepping back, I stood motionless in the middle of the room, barely exhaling a breath – That’s when the phone rang. It startled me so much, I almost screamed. My heart began to chug like a train engine, my adrenaline pulsing through my body, finding my face. The phone chimed loudly, repetitively. I stood there, nearly choked by the anxiety. I couldn’t pick it up, wouldn’t pick it up. I would just stay here like the statue of a tree.

Author: Roe

29. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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