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Short Fiction: Old Addictions and New Travels

 

Photo by Stephen Leonardi on Unsplash

The previous year felt like one protracted night sweat interrupted by three meals, one afternoon of lousy sex, and a false alarm pregnancy.

The job offer came at a great time from a lousy person with an opening for a terrible job Amanda didn’t want at a rate she couldn’t turn down.

Trying to drive straight through to Baton Rouge had been a mistake punctuated by a trip into a guardrail, which scared her into stopping at the next motel.

She was still sweaty, done with detoxing physically but her heart still percussive from the sound of metal on metal, fiber, synthetics, whatever the fuck cars were made of now.

The motel at the next exit was one long low building that could have been a miniature prison or an oversized chicken coop.

When she gave the desk clerk her ID , he asked “alone?”