Glancing at the clock, I rested my hand in my palm and closed my eyes for a moment. The heavy rain drumming against the roof and the sound of cars swooshing by on the highway began to feel like weights on my eyelids. The weather was so bad, I almost didn't believe my ears when I heard the motel's front door open and slam. I almost didn't open my eyes.
A woman struggling with her trunk trudged in, trembling. She walked up to me at the front desk and placed her trunk at the base of the counter.
"I know the sign said no vacancy," she said, "but I was wondering if maybe..."
Blinking, I took the sight of her in. Her brown hair clung to her face in thick strands, her eyelids looked sore, and there was black smudges around her eyes as gray droplets sticking to her cheeks suggested she'd been crying.
Out in the parking lot, was an even more miserable looking car. I took one look at her and knew I wasn't going to be the dick to turn her away.
YOU ARE READING
In The Eye
PoetrySort of like a portfolio, sort of like an autobiography, sort of like a book of poetry and short stories. Well, actually it's all of those things.
