fiction
edward w Pritchard
How bad I wanted to keep driving I never said before. To Florida or Canada, but no, I had no grand sense of motivation or adventure so I was parking in a married woman's drive way on a bright sunny Monday morning. Does one knock or just walk in? Front door, back or side?
After twelve hours of work Friday, Saturday and Sunday night at the front desk of a hotel one is done in. Working till 10 AM Monday is just wrong, one's equilibrium is busted and one's spirit is crushed.
As usual for me it began with a crying woman. I knew her from before and when her husband was caught in another affair she stopped at my all night comfort station but I had to work until 10AM Monday and now I was dry tired and dizzy depressed. I had no work till Wednesday night at 11PM and it was so sunny and blue skied and oh how I wanted to sleep till three and then lay at the beach.
She was cleaning her house. Obsessively. She would clean it before and after. Don't ask, don't ask, do I want cereal? There are four boxes. They have a clip to keep them fresh, I remember that from before. Who wants milk on one's cereal after working for twelve hours?
I didn't get down the front steps before the sweeper started to run.
end
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