The old clock had just turned one minute past the three thirty mark.
Patiently, the man sat in the corner of the room in the absolute worst chair he had ever sat in. Damn these shitty motels. This place sucks.
There was absolutely nothing to do at this hour at night. He had watched all the good television there had been to be watched, browsed all the weird Asian porn he had wished to browse, and drank all the liquor the mini bar could hold. Still, nothing.
The man sighed, a long sigh that said something along the lines of "I guess it's to be expected" or "Maybe I have underestimated myself." But there was really no point in thinking such things at all. He knew what was too happen. He knew there was no way out.
There were just simply too many mistakes.
The man stands up slowly , taking his time, and reached for his coffee mug. Empty. Just like it was five minutes ago. The man tries to convince himself that if he prays in just the right way,that any loving God that might be out there will take pity on him and restore that shitty bitter-ass drink that he wanted more than anything in the goddamn world. fuck, man.
They were faint in the distance now, he could hear them. With the back of his mind preparing him for the possible disappointment of listening to them pass by, he holds his breath.
No. They are here for me. And they're getting closer.
The man shivers with a tinge of excitement, mixed with a slight nervousness that sent his mind spinning. Will everything go as he planned it? Will it all be ok?
Yes. It will be perfect. It's always been perfect. Here they come.
The knock on the door was heavy, as if the hand knew what it was about to see.
"mr. martin" a gruff and stupid sounding voice calls out from the other side,
"this is the police. will you open your door?"
The man smiles for the first time all night.
...
"it's unlocked"
Emerson.
