Motel

She takes off her clothes, folds them neatly, places them on a chair next to the door and sits on the bed. He turns on the TV and watches an inning of a baseball game. She asks if he’s OK, he says he is. She takes a shower, sits on a chair, he asks if she’s OK, she says she is. Is the game almost over? She asks. It doesn’t matter, he says and turns it off. She lies down beside him, he turns off the light. He wakes up a couple hours later, goes outside, smokes a cigarette in the parking lot, watches a girl talk to a guy in a car across the street. He flips his butt and goes back to the room. She wakes up, where were you, she asks. Outside for a minute, he says. I was worried, she says. I’m sorry, he says. How do you feel? She asks. Kind of restless, he replies. Try and get some sleep we have a long day ahead of us, she says. I know I’ll be alright, don’t worry, he says. She closes her eyes. He looks at the ceiling and thinks about the guy and the girl on the street. The moon shimmers through the window and illuminates her face. He dreams about a little brick house beside a lake in the woods. She touches his foot with her foot. He can’t remember who she is.