He opened the door to the bathroom and booed. So much for soaking.
In the case of the facilities, Bryson couldn’t even liken it to what he’d expect in a motel. Most of them had tubs at least. In the tiny square room, there was only a stand-up shower, a pedestal sink, a toilet, and a mirrored medicine cabinet. There was less than five centimetres clearance between the door and the outside corner of the shower stall, let alone between the shower and any of the porcelain furniture. Why they had even bothered to separate the shower space was beyond him. In such a small spot, he’d have done like the Japanese and tanked the whole room, turning every inch of the space into a shower.
He immediately shook his head at his own thought. “Right, that’s what they should have done,” he mumbled, squeezi
