Saturday, October 04, 2003

Motel thoughts

My assumptions about G. were incorrect. He’s led nothing like a normal existence, and when he was talking last night, I realized, sickeningly, that we may even have some things in common. One is never as unique as one thinks. Mostly I was impressed by his need to tell me about his childhood. This is what happens, I thought, when two people share a motel room, and cannot sleep. I lay awake long after he was snoring, listening to every sound outside. When the sun rose I went outside and meditated, grateful to spend a few hours alone.


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