Ding. Ding. Ding. I watched a dim light flicker from outside of the elevator, it's blue beams quivering menacingly off of decrepit maroon wallpaper. Slowly, I pushed my foot down as hard as I could on the faded orange carpet. I observed hypnotically as my shoe drew a lighter orange blob in the artificial undergrowth. The woman had specifically stated that she would arrive at ten. 10 o clock. Motel Roxy. Green chair. First elevator. Cash only. As it approached eleven, I began to question the validity of the internet. Similar thoughts arose regarding sanity, but were left at the wayside by impending insanity. The elevator had opened numerous times since my arrival, each instance revealing a hollow compartment; which taunted my lonely existence to it's rawest state. Knowing that I could be here all night, I made a compromise with myself. One more elevator shift. One last chance. Hell, I had nothing to lose.
Sleep began to coral me in it's warming arms as my eyelids turned to lead. While gradually drifting onto the median line of hypnagogia, a familiar sound jolted me. Ding. My eyes darted open. The sounds of the elevator seemed to play in halftime, and the sliding doors slowly creaked open. Nothing. I left.
Frigid wind bombarded itself into my ears. I schlepped as if moving upstream against the gales, angling my body forward towards my destination. I unlocked my 2001 Pontiac Aztek, listening intently to the faint rings of the now unlocked SUV. The lights of my vehicle mockingly flashed me from a mere 20 feet, as I pummeled myself into the trembling gusts. I heard my father’s voice echo in my cranium, providing a sense of interior calm that was polarized by the violent chinook to my exterior. Humans can control a lot of things, kid. Mother nature? Forget about it. Finally, I reached the door of my car. I could feel the warmth of my heating system, engulfed with anticipation. Without hesitation, I pulled the handle. Nothing.
The elevator opened. My brains scattered the wall like an eccentric painting.
Finally.
Sleep began to coral me in it's warming arms as my eyelids turned to lead. While gradually drifting onto the median line of hypnagogia, a familiar sound jolted me. Ding. My eyes darted open. The sounds of the elevator seemed to play in halftime, and the sliding doors slowly creaked open. Nothing. I left.
Frigid wind bombarded itself into my ears. I schlepped as if moving upstream against the gales, angling my body forward towards my destination. I unlocked my 2001 Pontiac Aztek, listening intently to the faint rings of the now unlocked SUV. The lights of my vehicle mockingly flashed me from a mere 20 feet, as I pummeled myself into the trembling gusts. I heard my father’s voice echo in my cranium, providing a sense of interior calm that was polarized by the violent chinook to my exterior. Humans can control a lot of things, kid. Mother nature? Forget about it. Finally, I reached the door of my car. I could feel the warmth of my heating system, engulfed with anticipation. Without hesitation, I pulled the handle. Nothing.
The elevator opened. My brains scattered the wall like an eccentric painting.
Finally.