January 8, 2011 by Mark Lidstone

Tomorrow + Last Night

LAST NIGHT

Last night I booked a room at a hotel. I lid in the bed that was too soft and stared at the wall that was too yellow. My eyes wouldn’t stay closed. I saw her every time I shut them – rocking in her chair. I thought the sounds of the other guests would comfort me. I heard nothing. Nobody in the halls or talking in the other rooms. Just me. Me and my wife.

I found her standing at the foot of the bed. Her silk dress touched the floor. The mud still hadn’t dried. Her eyes locked onto mine. The tears were falling now – they wouldn’t stop. They dripped from her chin to the floor like a leaky faucet.

She climbed onto the bed towards me. Her mouth gaped and her lower jaw trembled. Tears dripped onto the sheets until they reached my face. I was terrified. I couldn’t move. I shut my eyes and fought back tears like a child hiding from a bad dream hoping  it would be better when I opened them.

I could feel her cold wet hands on my face. Mud smeared my cheeks and lips while water dripped onto my closed eyelids. Slowly her fingers moved to my throat. I began to cry from fear. Her fingers tightened – I could still breathe but the pressure and pain were overwhelming. I opened my eyes. She looked as if she were howling at the top of her lungs. Her tears dripped into my eyes and forced them closed. I kept them closed until morning.