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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2072462-The-Last-Night
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2072462
Contest for Writer's Cramp
She was wild, screaming, yelling in my face because – well, I can't tell you why. I didn't know either. It may have had something to do with me catching her at the bar wearing some other desperado’s hat.

I looked at the woman I had fallen out of love with. Her red hair was still beautiful, her figure, well, her figure--. She was still a beautiful lady.

I can't really put too much blame on her. I like life in the fast lane, and kept pretty busy. I should have known it would happen one of these nights.

She denied it at first, until I showed her the cowboy hat I took from her unconscious lover. I saw the fear in her lyin' eyes then. “I want you out of here tonight, Mindy.” I said, “Pack whatever you need for the night, I'll drive you to a place to stay. The first night's on me. Any longer than that, well – there's always your shit-kicker.”

Mindy pleaded with me the whole drive. It was only a few miles, but she made it an eternity.

We pulled into to the near-empty lot of Hotel California and I think, for the first time in our marriage, Mindy was taking me seriously. I took her bags out of the trunk and tossed them onto the wet sidewalk.

I gave the lady a good long look. I wanted to remember this night. “Take it easy,” I said as I drove away.

I've been told the hotel was haunted, and that whoever stayed one night could never leave. Somehow that gives me a peaceful, easy feeling.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2072462-The-Last-Night