A couple meets for a weekend getaway only to have it cut short.
She opened the bright white door of room 111. Brown lattice hung behind the two queen-size beds striped in blood orange, pine green, and white. Claws from the feet of the end tables dug into the golden-brown shag carpet. A dark wooden liquor cabinet displayed a decanter of liquor and crystal glasses. A lone white chair sat in the corner. Sunlight sparkled through an oval window in the patio door. She gasped. “Why Harry, it’s a lovely place. I don’t know what you were going on about. I think they fixed this place up beautifully.”
Harry stopped, placed his hand on his hips, and surveyed the room. He shrugged. A frown pressed on his lips. “It’s okay, I suppose, Jane. It’s certainly not the five-star hotels we are used to.”
Jane clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Now, Harry, sometimes it’s nice to get out of those stuffy, pretentious hotels.
Originally published in Ariel Chart International Literary Journal here
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