Indian Mom In Hotel Room

She was right about the depth - it was easily within her limits.A moment later, all that was left of the injury was a small blood stain around the wound site. Andy washed his hands in the utility sink while he thanked her. Then he asked her to look around for anything unusual, commenting that the closet looked too shallow. The ones at the Chinese and the other theaters he had worked were deeper. It didn't take her long. There was an active stain spreading from under the apparent back wall of the closet, and what looked like the residue of a number of unwashed handprints - also active enough for her to notice them - on one part of the wall and under an adjacent shelf. Looking under the shelf, she saw what looked like a smallish wad of used chewing gum. But it looked wrong. Like it was plastic or something. And the only evidence of biological action was from the smeared fingerprints.Also, it didn't quite touch the wall.She pointed it all out to Andy. He tried pushing on the "gum", and. How she was able to put so much disdain into a single cough I was unable to fathom and from the look on her face, I realised that she wanted to question me about what I was doing all the way back here. I smiled politely and headed out towards the bright more frequented areas. .......The next week when I arrived I failed to notice the absence of the new librarian and after dropping of the coffees at the main counter I retrieved my book and found my usual spot on the couch available. I finished the book with at least half an hour to spare and returned it to its’ correct spot in the shelves and then headed into the rear to peruse the less populated areas of the shelves.After a while, the lights flashed above the shelves and I replaced the book on Victorian poetry I had been idly flicking through and headed out of the stacks. Once again as I moved from one aisle to the next I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise and turned to find the new librarian staring at me. If looks could.
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