“Room for one, please,” said the man with tired eyes to the young woman behind the counter. She pulled a key off one of the brass rings on the wall behind her and handed it to him. 

“First floor okay?” She asked, jokingly, as there was only the one floor. 

“Sure. Here’s for 3 nights.” He produced a wad of crumpled twenty dollar bills and slid them across the counter. He took the key, turned and left, carrying a single slim briefcase at his side. 

“This is too m—“

“Keep it.”

* * * * * * *

He glanced up at the sign jutting up into the dying light of the sky. Ranch Motel. Just below the large sun-faded letters read; We’re happy you’re here! “Right,” he muttered to himself then turned the key and pushed his way into the room. 

It was dim and damp, but overall, it had everything you could ask for in a motel room. A desk and chair, a small tv, a microwave and a queen bed — made up the best it could be — with a single painting hanging above it. He tossed his briefcase down on the dingy carpet and fell on the bed and into a deep sleep.

* * * * * * *

He awoke to birds singing about the glory of the morning. A new day had dawned. The young sun crept through the window and filled the room with promise. He got up begrudgingly and cinched the shades closed. The darkness was total. He felt around him until he found the desk then turned on the lamp, tossed his briefcase on the table and got to writing. 

My Dearest Daisy,

As much as it pains me to be writing this, I know that it’s for the best. I’m not sure how this will get to you or if you’ll ever read it, but if you do, just know that I am sorry. Life just isn’t what I thought it would be. I —

A knock on the door broke the silence in the room. “Who is it?” He called. 

“Sarah! Erm — the girl from the front desk. I forgot to put some clean towels in this room and I, uh, brought some if you need them.” 

“Just leave em at the door,” he called back. There was a hesitation before she spoke again.

“Well, then they wouldn’t be clean, ya know? It’s pretty dusty out here.” 

“Fine. One second.” He rose, pushed back the chair and opened the door to reveal the smiling face of the woman. The sunlight played with her long hair in a reflective river of red. She put the towels in his hand, turned and walked back toward the office. Just before he closed the door she spun back around and called out to him.

“Breakfast ends at 10am sharp. You don’t want to miss it!”

“Yeah, okay.” 

But the man stayed in his room all day and all night. 

* * * * * * *

The next morning, the man rose again and sat out in the dirty, white plastic chair outside of his room and watched the rain rip the once still glass top of the pool. He lit a cigarette and took a long, slow drag deep into his lungs. 

“You know those things will kill ya, right?” It was the red haired woman again coming down the walkway toward him. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“I guess. But not on a day like today,” she glanced up and put her arms toward the sky.

“What? You mean in this shit weather?” 

“Hey, weather is just weather. The person in it makes it good or bad.”

“I guess I’m just a shit person then,” he muttered under his breath. 

She walked past him and into the adjacent room before popping her head back out. “Oh, by the way, breakfast ends at 10am sharp. I hope to see you there.” She disappeared in the room again and he could hear the vacuum start up. He snubbed his cigarette on the pavement, went back into his room and didn’t come out all day and all night. 

* * * * * * *

On the third morning, the man appeared in the office much to the woman’s surprise. “I hear breakfast ends at 10am sharp around here,” he said with as much humor as he could. She answered him with a smile and opened up a red and yellow tin box. Proudly, she handed him a cold hard-boiled egg and a granola bar.

“Breakfast is served!” She sung. 

“Really? This is it? You couldn’t serve this all day?”

“Well, then it wouldn’t be breakfast.” 

He laughed, “why are you always so cheerful? A pretty girl like yourself — don’t you wish for something more than this for your life?” He gestured around the room as he took a bite from his granola bar.

“Why? What could be better than hanging out with people on vacation? I get to be a part of people’s happiest times! I must admit, you haven’t been the funnest hang, but I think you’re finally coming around,” she winked at him in a playful way and took a bite of her hard boiled egg like an apple. “Plus,” she said with her mouthful, “since we’re all going to die in the end, why not enjoy the little slice of time we get the opportunity to experience? Ya know?” 

He considered this as he finished his food and then went back to his room for the day.

* * * * * * *

The next morning the man was gone. The door to his room was open and Sarah entered and began to turn down the bed. Glancing at the desk, she noticed the lamp light was still on. In the middle of the table was a small torn piece of paper and scribbled on it were the words; 

‘Thank you, Sarah. I will enjoy my little slice of time. Now more than ever.’

---