A one night stand they called it. The motel rooms were filled with all types of things: what had once been lifeless now overflowed with a sense of urgency, and what had once been vulgar became even more so. As the night wore on so were we transfigured by the mere passing of time and the status of the motel was transformed from its previous state as rest-stop and instead became a place of wonderful unrest. It was at once magical and obscene— no decent thing happens past bedtime.

 

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