Motel Endings by Ed Teja

A short story of people struggling to deal with life.

Motel endings

Things that end in motels...

Endings and motels both evoke a sadness that is almost lyrical. Every night thousands of us use them for a place to rest, for meetings and assignations, and even, at times, to act out life's dramas. They are soulless places, almost perfect for the tragic endings that sometimes seem to take on their own power and strength, playing out no matter what we truly want.

Genre: FICTION / Literary

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Psychological

Language: English

Keywords: contempory fiction, literary fiction, love and marriage, infidelity, relationship fiction

Word Count: 4000

Sample text:

Friday evening was unusually steamy hot—staying up in the high nineties according to the television weather report. The summer heat had lingered late, sneaking its way into fall. It had started getting dark earlier but still we simmered, stewing in the heat.

The aircon in my car doesn't work so I had the windows open and when I pulled into the motel parking lot the pungent and perfumy smell of night-blooming jasmine almost overwhelmed me. I felt nauseated. With my headache already trying to take my head off, I almost puked. I don’t believe in bad omens, but the signs weren’t stellar, not even promising.

The neon motel sign glowed in sickly pastels above the tacky office and a bright-white sign screamed “office” and “vacancy” blared out through the window. The sight of those bilious lights made me feel even worse. I had to escape them. I moved the car far away away from the office door, backing my car into a shadowy parking spot, and switching off the engine to let the silence settle around me. None of It helped. The flowery stink and glare of the aggravating lights still aggravated the pounding in my head.

I looked around but there didn't seem to be a better spot. I hoped to be getting out of the car soon anyway, so let out a sigh and decided to stay put.

I heard the rattle and roar as a semi pulled in and I watched it drive around behind the motel, looking for an open space. It was that kind of motel, that had a huge lot with long spaces reserved for big rigs. As the truck disappeared I caught the odor of diesel exhaust mixing with the jasmine. It was not a pleasant combination.

 


Book translation status:

The book is available for translation into any language except those listed below:

LanguageStatus
Italian
Already translated. Translated by Kara Holburn
Portuguese
Already translated. Translated by Telma Catarina Rodrigues Cabral
Author review:
Telma was great to work with.
Spanish
Unavailable for translation. Translated by Carolina ZL

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