Morning all. Monday was a hard slog for me, I can’t lie. I’m certain Tuesday will be a lot easier though, especially since I worked a little extra to make sure Tuesday’s crazy didn’t spill over. So deep breath and let’s get into it starting with our morning prompt. Timers set for fifteen minutes and off we go.
Not sure why she is on the run, but I like the thought of someone on the run having to adjust to not running anymore and dealing with all the little details of life that weren’t a part of her daily life before.
Tuesday, October 20th: She had been living out of a suitcase for years.
She had been living out of a suitcase for years. It no longer seemed unnatural to her. She was careful with what she picked up and added to her collection. Clothes all fit into her main suitcase. Beautification and personal care items fit into her train case. She had one final box in the trunk of her car for keepsakes she kept along the way. Even though she kept those small, a piece of jewelry here, a sticker there, occasionally a keychain, the box was now full. She shoved it into the dark recesses of her trunk where it wouldn’t be seen and debated starting a second box.
Occasionally she took the box out and looked through it when moments of longing occurred. The items were connections to memories, to people she felt ties to and often regretted leaving behind when she next had to move.
They were also reminders of why it wasn’t always good to make those connections.
They hurt when she had to sever them.
Then came the call. She was in a roadside motel outside of a town she hadn’t properly looked at, it’s name blurred in her mind. She took the room because she was tired and wanted to rest. She wasn;t certain if this was her next stopping point or not. That decision would come in the morning. After sleep, after coffee. After a walk around to see if jobs were available and strangers welcome.
For now, they had a vacancy and a clean place to stay for the night. She took her small overnight bag in. The suitcase and train case would only leave the trunk if she stayed more than one night. If she just took the overnight bag in then if she needed to leave in a hurry, it could be left behind with not much lost and little information about her left behind.
She paid for the room with a prepaid credit card. Cash was no longer anonymous as people remembered cash purchases and many places wouldn’t rent a room to anyone without a card on file. She put money on her card, never enough to draw notice, but always enough to get by. She could still count on Western Union and other places to top up a prepaid card. She had several at this point and when she felt she used one for too long, she would trade it out with another.
Her eyes were heavy. She could feel them sagging as she entered the motel room. It was clean and smelled of disinfectant. It would do for the night. She locked the door and as always moved a chair in front of the door. She was less worried about fire and more about unexpected company. That task complete, she moved to the bed and tried to decide if she wanted to seek something out to eat before sleeping.
Sleep seemed the better choice even though the sun was high. She had long since stopped worrying about the accepted time tables of the rest of the world. Three am often saw her awake no matter when she slept.
She stripped off the clothes she was wearing, promising herself a shower later, after a short rest. She dressed in an oversized t-shirt and climbed into the bed. She was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
As expected, she was awake before three am. Her promised shower complete. It was as she was dressing, that the phone rang. Her prepaid cell phone, changed out as often as her prepaid credit cards. She ran through the short list of names; those she trusted to give the number. The listing didn’t take long and those who knew it would only use it in an emergency.
