Taking It on the Lam by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Page 49

“Okay, put me down for five days.” I passed a double sawbuck through the slot. He slid back some change and a key to #318.

I walked to the elevator and he called out; ”Stairs work; elevator don’t.”

I took it on the arches, severely uphill, like the loosely guarded entryways to the hills of Rockford, to 3 and went down the narrow corridor to #318. No one else was there and no sounds emanated from the apartments, not even a radio. When I opened the door my first reaction was that it was better than I had expected. It wasn’t a big concern as my stay would be reet temporary. The once whitewashed walls were now comfortably complemented by the un-distilled remains of telltale gasper smoke.

I dropped on the bed facing the window, took out my portable ashtray, popped the top, and lit a filter free Lucky, adding to the ambience present while being scrutinized by the bird

Taking It on the Lam