Then my hotel room door opened
Ona recent trip to Florida, my mom and I checked into a hotel.
And what started as a relaxing night turned devastating in the time it takes to open a door.
After a shower, I toweled off, slipping on a robe to grab the delivery I’d ordered. Then, I’d tossed the scratchy monster on the bed, and naked is how I stayed — and how I will forever prefer to stay.
With my mouth full of key-lime pie and “I Am a Killer” on the television, I sat cross-legged on the couch. Nothing separated me from giving quite a show to the hallway should the door open.
And that’s when it did.
Due to the sudden surge of adrenaline when I heard a keycard beep and the door-handle said, click, the details are muddy.
I’m not sure why a housekeeper stood in my doorway with her arms full of towels. Or why her face twisted like she saw The Wolfman, but it happened.
Oh, it happened.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman gasped, clutching the towels to her chest.
Then, she exited as fast as she came, leaving me to process the last few seconds.
And why they bothered me so damned much.
Original publication 14 August, 2020
Posted on NatCorn 7th September 2020
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