The gray was nailed tight to the sky above Old Sodom. Winter was fast coming and the late afternoon air was sharp, getting sharper. Musing under his breath that the Quality Inn was not quality, and therefore either pretentious or ironic, Dan wondered if he should write that bit down, save it for later, in some short story or something that he'd never actually get around to writing. He hadn't written anything in years and it was going to be years till he did. It just sounded good, on paper.
Letting the bath fill, Dan beat the love out of his lap in the next room. Returning to the bathroom he drained the tub and sat down to let it fill up again. That was the best part about taking a bath, listening to the water gurgle out the faucet. Soaking was disgusting, just laying there in your own dead skin cells and soaped suds. But listening to the water, that was about as good as it got, at least in the Quality Inn. The ash tray tub side hadn't been cleaned since the tub's last occupant had laid there in their own filth but Dan wasn't about to complain. He was lucky to have the room for the night.
He had two things to accomplish that night. First, he was going to go see Ree down at Sportsman's, ask her where the fuck she'd be for the past two months. Then he was going to work on getting his handicap down up at the Bowl-a-Lane. Figured with a whiskey or two in him he'd have a good game there as well.
Funny how things work out like this he thought.
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