three line tales week 36 service

Under the service sign stretched a well-worn wooden check-in counter, with a tiny clapper bell and a ledger on top with an old fashioned cabinet of mail/key cubicles; lucky to find a place open and with electricity in a storm where winds snapped tree trunks and sheet-bucket rain blinded.

An elderly gentleman shuffled out of the darkness beyond the service sign, “Miss Cavanaugh, we readied your room just in case – with this weather and all – but I see a mistake has been made – wrong reservation;” closing the ledger, he shuffled back into the darkness.

I hurt, blood and rain ran down my face blinding me; those wonking in and out sirens were headed this way; so Jonathon, not stirring beside me, must be the right reservation in the ledger under the service sign.

Once again, I stretched the meaning of a sentence so there would only “appear” to be three. I am quite the little rebel at times.

Written for TLT, week 36 hosted so graciously and ingeniously by Sonya of only 100 words; photo by Mike Wilson – click here for bigger version

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