DO NOT DISTURB

The room was clean. Two twin beds with matching bed spreads, two end tables, one with a reading lamp, the other, an old clock radio with red glowing numbers. Nothing else but a lonely octagonal mirror, the silvering fading at the edges, adorns the walls.

Compelled by some primitive instinct, I walked in and slowly paced the perimeter of the room, sensing for safety and boundaries. As I walked around I looked down at the night stand and there, by the clock, was a small gold tone sign which read “Do Not Disturb; I’m disturbed enough already.”

On that note, I climbed under the covers, switched off the reading lamp and for a moment thoughts of sitting in my airplane seat flickered through my mind.