Pencil Shavings: Hotel Beds

The maid’s judgment lingered around the Bible, perched on my pillow.
[Daphne Reed, Asheville, NC]

♦

At night, the bed became a terrarium, and I the dirt that ants and centipedes and crickets crawled over, burrowed in, chewed through.
[Kevin Hong, Needham, MA]

♦

If I’d known better, I would’ve stretched
The days till their sunsets began to chip;
If I’d known better, I would’ve left
Crop circles in your hair while you slept;
And if I’d known better, I would’ve told
You to leave the stain next to the pillow
So the maid could read our initials through
The red, for the mattress only holds our shape for so long.
[Kimberly MacCormack, Dover, MA]

♦

She said that even from the couch she could hear the tides of my sleep; this morning I found her suede fists in the pockets of my overcoat.
[Gabriella Fee, Lincoln, MA]

♦

We asked for two, but all the fathers and daughters must be sharing rooms tonight; we got one, with heart-shaped pillows.
[Renee Richard, Framingham, MA]

♦

That was the September night when the geese curled up in the inflated kiddy pool in the front yard, and the next morning, there was nothing more than plastic and feathers.
[Mary Carter, Lenox, MA]

♦

Instead, he had the steering wheel, a reclining seat, and a few more bills in his wallet.
[Daphne Reed, Asheville, NC]

♦

Got a Pencil Shaving of your own for “Hotel Beds”? Send it in!
Visit TBPO Writers’ Guidelines for details on how to submit.
Click here for the Pencil Shavings Archive.