Much later, Georgie awoke. Disorientated. Confused as to what roused her. It took a moment to recall where she was.
Back at the crummy motel.
Georgie sat upright on the double bed. She strained to listen and see. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light penetrating the flimsy curtains and the clock radio that glowed 11.59pm.
A bad dream? What if it wasn’t?
A bad dream? What if it wasn’t?Goosebumps pricked her skin.
Although situated on one of the main drags into town, the motel had minimal passing traffic at night, and the units were set back. It was doubtful that road noise had stirred her.
As far as she knew, only hers, the manager’s residence and one other unit were occupied. She pulled back the curtain. Unit one, non-smoking section: in darkness. Ditto the fat manager’s house an
