{"sf1_id":256146,"sf2_id":"Oe5gWK8n","title":"A whisper in my mind Motel.","author":"Remo Blockade","words":87,"posted_at":"2011-06-05T13:06:00.000Z","tags":["Poem"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/256146-a-whisper-in-my-mind-motel","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Oe5gWK8n","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/ac/af/acafd2db-50ce-4264-b0cd-1560faa265f6","description":"","content":"The neon sign outside the motel in my mind reads, Vacancy. I ring the bell at the check in desk. ding ding ding. Over and over again, But the young Indian mans eyes have grown glassy and distant as he stairs at a spot on the counter. The lobby smells of mold and rotting food.\n\nThe light over head flickers endlessly, driving me mad as I continue to ring the bell, Ding, ding, ding.\n\nDark crimson replaces silver, and the light goes out,\n\nstill the bell rings.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}