Motel Seven

Desert Air

Dmitri hadn't grown up in a large city.

He grew up in a small city, Nauvoo.

He thought he had known what the quiet of the night had felt like.

He was wrong.

Even when he had lived in Bellevue, Ohio, he still hadn't experienced the quiet that he was experiencing there.

Nothing moved in that crisp air.

Not cars or animals, or even insects.

It felt as though the entire hotel property was in a world, a universe, of its own.

Dmitri hesitated, eventually stopping a room or two down from his, just to take in the night.

It was so damn quiet. It felt as though it was all a dream. How could something like this be real?

He sighed softly, looking up at the sky, taking a step or two from underneath the covering overhead.

He had never, in his life, seen that many stars.

Even with all the lights around, all the signs of life just from the hotel, he could see the Milky Way.

He had never seen that many stars, let alone a night that clear.

He stood there for a moment, silently observing the sky, then turned his attention to the surroundings on the ground. The wilderness that encircled, entrapped, the small sign of civilization. The darkness of the night was hardly broken by the many lights around the structure. The silence was barely cut into by the sound of machinery, of the buzzing lights, if at all.

Dmitri hesitantly took a seat, slowly, on the curb.

Was this even Earth anymore?

He looked at the silent wilderness across the small road. Nothing moved, not wildlife nor lights of traffic. The air was so still that the shrubs didn't stir.

It was something else.

Dmitri leaned back a little, using his arms to support him. His palms pressed against the cool concrete below him, most likely scuffing his hands up a bit. He shifted his weight onto one hand, his other hand running through his hair. Was this what he came for? Was this how the Cowboys felt? Is this what they saw at night, minus the street and retro motel?

He sat there for a moment longer before getting back up.

He still had to get his room... fixed?

Dmitri walked towards the front office, watching flickering lights come from the screen door, presumably from the TV and Jukebox. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Mr. All-American.