Hotel Theatrics

 
He slid over; serpentine smiles and a
rumpled shirt accompanied him.
His half-lidded eyes made for a clumsy wink
but the patter was getting him nowhere.

Clumsily, he noted the bare fingers.

“No ring – so you’re not married then?”
She sipped the last of her drink in relief,
the excuse to leave now available. Dropping
from the bar stool, her exit was swift, a swelling

inside her head making her feel faint. Her
breathing only resumed once she had crossed
the lobby and stepped into an empty elevator.
She clutched the chain at her throat, the slender

chain securing the gold band. How long had she
remained prone to these bare moments?  
A sole sob tumbled out, the first act in
the three-ring show spectacular.

Later, when the dried tears rounded off the
finale, she wearied of the usual audience of
old thoughts. A number dialed from memory,
the disconnected tone reminded her that

the last goodbye was the last goodbye.

Housekeeping had left a chocolate on the
pillow. The wrapping was gold foil, and it
crinkled pleasingly. She stared at the
uneaten cube of brown mediocrity.

Something inside shifted. The next day, the
gold band would see daylight briefly, cast
off the pedestrian bridge into clouded
currents. Still in her moment, she swiped at the

chocolate, flinging it unto the carpeted corner.