The Hotel Room…

He opened the curtains and looked out the hotel room window. Nothing spectacular, he shrugged. But it could have been the Eiffel tower and he still wouldn’t have been impressed. It wasn’t home.

Nothing was these days. That’s all he wanted. The view from his own room. The oak tree in the back next to the swing set. His wife smiling as she played around in the garden with their oldest daughter. His other two running around with the dog.

No. This wasn’t there. There didn’t exist anymore. He sighed. He closed the curtains. He turned away.

Time to get to work.

 

Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

 

 

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Published by

R. Todd

I'm older than I think I am and younger than I feel. I'm stuck in the 80's but relevant to today (oh I hope that last part is true). I think I am more of an enigma than I really am, but somehow still confound those who try to figure me out (or they just look at me weird, so I infer that). And I really hate my first name. Husband, father, Navy Vet, cat owner (translate.. slave), wannabe writer, and all around big kid who is stuck in an adult world. Overall, I just... um.. something to something, blah blah blah. And that's all I got to say about that.

25 thoughts on “The Hotel Room…”

        1. Haha, I’m sure i fyou knew him, you would say exactly what everyone else says about him… “I really wish I would have known that knowing him was this difficult.” Or, so I’ve heard it said.

          Liked by 1 person

  1. Well done, R.! Definitely pulled me in and I felt it was like a man who is so much on the go for work that home is but a figment of his imagination… or is it? Definitely can go in many directions with this one.

    Liked by 1 person

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