First Night

In a crappy motel room. Just got off the phone with JJ.

“Did you know bad weather is coming?” he asked when I called him five minutes after checking in.

I heaved a dramatic sigh. “Shit, really?”

“Yeah. You’re probably going to run into it tomorrow night.”

“That’s just fucking wonderful.” I looked at the bed with deep suspicion. Were there bed bugs hiding in those sheets? That blanket? What about the pillows? I loved traveling but I hated staying in strange rooms. “If I have to get off the road a while, I will. I won’t do anything stupid.” 

“I…miss you.”

“Miss you, too. Where are you?”

“In bed.”

I’d have given anything to be next to him. No bed bugs there, for sure. I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. Motel rooms were all alike unless you could afford the expensive places. I always went for the cheap one because I hated spending money just to sleep a few hours. “Maybe you can visit me over Easter break? Fly out, stay a couple days, fly back?”

“Yeah, that would be nice. I’ll look into it.”

That made me feel better. “Good.”

We talked a while before hanging up. Pulling the covers back, I squinted at the sheets. They always looked okay, even if they felt like burlap against my skin.

Goddamn bed bugs.



About Fenraven

Fenraven happily lives in south Florida, where it is really hot most of the year. Find him on Twitter, Google +, and Facebook by searching on 'fenraven'.
This entry was posted in RL and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to First Night

  1. Chris says:

    Travel safely. 🙂

    What I love about roadtrips is that I can bring my own pillow. Ahhh.

  2. feepes says:

    Have a safe journey.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.