The motel had a pool but Annie took one look at it and shook her head. 

"That thing is full of bacteria," she told Brian. "Look at it! You can practically see them moving." 

Brian looked at the pool. It was kind of dirty looking. It had a grey-green tinge to it. 

"I'm sure it is fine," he said, his voice full of doubt. 

"You can get in it, if you like, Brian. But don't think I'll let you in my bed afterwards." Annie crossed her arms. "You'd be lucky if I let you in the room." 

Some vacation this was, Brian thought. We should have stayed at home. He had hoped a weekend away would help bring them back together. Back to how it used to be.

"Do you want a drink?" he said, forcing a smile onto his face. Annie shook her head. 

"I'm going back to bed. I didn't get much sleep last night, what with all that racket from next door." 

The sound of other people having sex was, apparently, not much of a turn-on for Annie. As she had pointed out on several occasions during the night when Brian had tried to move closer to her.

“And don’t think you’ll be joining me, either,” Annie said. Brian’s smile fell from his face. “I want to get some sleep, I don’t want to be poked and prodded.”

Brian watched as Annie climbed the stairs up to their room. He sat by the pool for a few minutes after she had gone and then sighed and made his way to the bar. It was empty. There was a bell on the bar with a sign that read ‘ring me for service’. Brian did so and waited for a few minutes before ringing the bell again, this time for a little longer. 

“Alright, alright!” a man’s voice came from behind a faded purple curtain at the other side of the bar, that presumably was hiding a doorway. “Keep your hair on! I’ll be with you in a minute.”

What happened to customer service? Brian thought. 

The curtain was swept aside and an untidy looking man appeared.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“A drink,” Brian said, sitting down on a stool. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

The man stared at him, his eyes narrow. 

“Well?” 

“Well, what?”

“What drink do you want? I ain’t a mind reader.”

Just as well, Brian thought. Because if you could read what I was thinking you would probably punch me.

“A beer. Please.”

The man grunted and reached up to a shelf and pulled down a glass that looked as though it hadn’t ever been cleaned. Brian watched as he filled it with a pale flat liquid and plonked it down on the bar. 

Brian put a note on the bar and the man picked it up, put it up to the light and examined it before putting it in his pocket. He disappeared behind the curtain without offering Brian any change. 

Brian took a sip of the liquid and then put the glass down on the bar. It was flat, warm and tasted old, stale. 

Like my life, Brian thought. I’ve made a terrible mistake. No, he thought. Not one mistake. My whole life has been a series of errors and miscalculations. I need to talk to Annie.

He pushed himself off the stall and headed back to the room. He wondered as he trudged his way up the metal staircase if Annie would let him in.

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Written by Bruce Arbuckle (@Felt.Buzz). Picture taken by Bruce Arbuckle (@Felt.Buzz)