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Hotel Room Wait

Eight stories up a chrome and glass building, with twelve thousand people peeking out behind chintzy curtains, I pace. My stomach leaks tension and the phone hasn't rung yet. TV's too loud, Discovery Channel playing sharks with crooked teeth and heavy opium eyes. They are familiar, the sharks. They peek too, behind curtains of water and doomed fish.
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Written by
erin-doyle
American
Published
Apr 1, 2011
Lines·Words
13·58
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