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Motel Endings
Motel Endings
Motel Endings
Ebook27 pages19 minutes

Motel Endings

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Summer heat and sadness.

The chain motels perch all along the US highways and freeways and cluster where they intersect, nestled among convenience stores and gas stations. Convenient, soulless, and relatively inexpensive, they provide a place to rest for a time, take a respite from a journey. They also house meetings, celebrations, and assignations.

Inside their homogenous rooms, through their economical walls, you can sometimes hear life's dramas play out. Many stories end there as the faceless and anonymous nature of chain motels, their very convenience, makes them almost perfect for the tragic endings that come. This is the story of several such endings, stories that take on their own power and strength and become inevitable. They overwhelm actual desire, playing out no matter what outcome we truly want.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 10, 2022
ISBN9781536568462

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    Book preview

    Motel Endings - Ed Teja

    Motel Endings

    Ed Teja

    Published by Float Street Press, 2022.

    This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

    MOTEL ENDINGS

    First edition. January 10, 2022.

    Copyright © 2022 Ed Teja.

    ISBN: 978-1536568462

    Written by Ed Teja.

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    Copyright Page

    MOTEL ENDINGS

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    Further Reading: Imitating Art

    Also By Ed Teja

    About the Author

    MOTEL ENDINGS

    Friday evening was steamy hot even for this time of year, irritatingly hot for this time of year. Any other year, it would be getting cooler now, giving us relief, but according to the radio, the temperature would stay up in the high nineties all night. And there was no end to it in sight.

    Even if the summer heat lingered, sneaking its way into fall, it had started getting dark earlier. That meant I simmered, stewing in the heat, in the dark. It wasn’t helping anything.

    The aircon in my car didn't work. I had the windows open and when I pulled into the motel parking lot, the pungent and perfumed smell of night-blooming jasmine almost overwhelmed me. I felt nauseated. With my headache already trying to take my head off, I almost puked. I don’t believe in evil omens, but I have to say that the signs didn’t seem stellar. They weren’t even promising.

    The neon motel sign glowed in sickly pastels above the tacky office. A bright-white sign screamed office and the word vacancy blared out through the window. The

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