Short Story: Motel In The Present Tense

Short Story: Motel In The Present Tense

The air is suffocating in the room. The CO2 and O2 is being crowded by CO. CO pushing in between the spaces till the O2s – O2 and CO2– cannot roll over and can’t breathe.

The family that is crowded into this cheap motel room – have made it cheaper by paying for double occupancy then slipping the children in (Laura talking to the manager and overreacting to his humour while Tara, Jamie-Lynn and Kris-Curtis ran in under Marcus’ arm and dive onto the bed. The manager had seen and Laura had seen he had seen and had faked a Splenda-sweet smile. The manager had known the fakery and hadn’t cared. He was still making money...).

The family that has crowded into this cheap motel room isn’t doing so well now.

The initial feeling of cockroach-success had worn off a little when they took off their soaking clothes – soaked from the walk from their petrol-less car – and hung them over the heaters and turned them right up. (The stars scrawled on the fridge didn’t matter.) And worn off more when Laura saw the iron and board and took them out.

Laura had started to clean the stars off the fridge for kicks but then stopped because it seemed wrong to be working when she didn’t have to – even though it was a whim – and also because she quite liked them. And they’d turned the TV on and watched 2 and a Half Men, flicked over the news and then stopped on Ghosts of Girlfriends Past which had only just started.

Laura hadn’t ironed long – had soon showered by the mould and had got into bed and then they all huddled under the blankets with her and Marcus in one and the kids all in the other as the gas heater did its work.

They had fallen asleep without informing the tv and so now the tv and heater are talking just to themselves. Laura murmurs in her half-sleep trying to push away the talking – words and growl – and pulls Marcus closer because even though she had to flirt with the manager and was so lowered by this that he didn’t even want her, they’re inside and warm and getting warmer and he is warmest. Marcus leans back into her, just enough so that their bodies are fully in contact but not pushing her.

The TV is talking and the heater is growling. It’s an inhuman conversation on various subjects – the latest film releases and who’s married who and now the latest price crash at Martin’s – and the heater has always one reply: grrrrrrrr-rrr.

The family isn’t breathing.