Looking For Space // Josh Kiszka

XVII

It's getting real, y'all.

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"I can't even remember the last time I was in a hotel," I said to Josh as we stepped inside, immediately greeted by a burst of warm air and the sounds of elevators dinging. The chocolate and cream tile floors, glowing chandeliers hanging overhead, men and women in seamlessly pressed and lintless business clothes and the smell of brewing coffee all seemed a little surreal.

Josh adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. "This looks nice."

"Good thing it's paid for."

He laughed. "Yes! On our salaries, this would be a massive dent."

The room was bigger than I expected, though it was just standard size, and smelled freshly cleaned. I dropped my bag on the bed and went to the window--it was an overview of the edge of the city, the river just beyond that.

"Hey, double sinks!" Josh called from the bathroom.

"We're really living in luxury," I commented and looked in the bathroom. "It's bigger than my bathroom."

Josh picked up one of the mini bars of soap and looked it over. "So, darling--what do you want to do first?"

"How much time do we have before dinner?"

Josh looked at his phone. "A few hours."

"Coffee?" I proposed. "Walk around a bit?"

"Yes, coffee," he agreed, nodding, then started to scoot me out of the bathroom. "But first, we have to test the mattress." He tossed himself onto the bed, crawling up the pillows and lying on his back.

I sat on the edge, testing its firmness. "Not bad. What do you think? You like really soft mattresses."

Josh rolled over onto his stomach. "I like it. But I say that now, who knows later? At least I have you to compensate." He reached over to the night table and grabbed the small pad and its matching pen. "What note should we leave for the next guests?"

I moved next to him as he rolled back over, propping himself up on the pillows. "I don't know. You're the witty one."

He thought for a moment, tapping the pen against his bottom lip. "What about a line from our poem?"

"Which line?"

Josh thought for another couple of seconds before scribbling on the pad:

Below the boundless universe,

the petals of her lips withered

with his own

"You do the next one," he said and handed me the pen. It took me saying the lines aloud to really remember:

and she pulled away

when his teeth tore through them,

but they both laughed all the same.

I looked at the pad, how Josh's scraggly, small handwriting juxtaposed with my much larger, looping handwriting, and smiled a little to myself. "Where are you gonna put it?" I asked. "I worry if we just leave it on the pad, they'll throw it away."

Josh tore the piece of paper off and stood up, looking around the room. "Where would someone find it, in a place where someone who would throw it away wouldn't find it?"

"What about with the coffee filters?" I proposed. "You could tuck it in there. Eventually someone will find it."

"Fantastic," he agreed and went to the Mr. Coffee, taking the bag of coffee filters and rifling a few out to tuck the note in between them.