Tryst

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a piece from my debut collection of Personal Narratives.

Submitted: October 30, 2016

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Submitted: October 30, 2016

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Tryst

The first thing that hits you when you open the door of a Motel room is the smell; it smells of years of the same bedspread, the same drapes, the same dresser and the same carpet. All Motel rooms look the same; the same fake wooden nightstand, the same plastic lamps and the same bolted down limited channel television. In a Motel room you don't want to touch anything, not for fear of germs but for fear of absorbing all the things you are certain went on in that very room and it makes one shudder. In a Motel room you can hear everything; the freeway traffic, the item falling into the vending machine bin and the voices next door. The notion of eating anything in a Motel room is a natural appetite suppressant.


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