154

it's the kind of hotel that will politely be called "quaint" but what it really is is too old and too dark. my key says 154. i walk up and down the hall trying to find it. mark finds his room and so does nicole.

when i do find my room (and it was right there -- how could i miss it?) it says 154 pneumonia patients.

so many of them in a room. all dying. all looking at me with resentment. their breaths raspy and their dull eyes watery.

i turn around and run to the hotel's lobby but slowly the hotel starts to look like a hospital. i see nurses, bed pans, food carts.

still i hurry, clutching my key.

home

i am still half-asleep. he sits on the bed and leans over to hug me. i am on my right side so i have to look back to see his face, his blue shirt.

"are you home?" i ask.

he doesn't have to answer. deep in my heart is gratitude, happiness, peace.