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Journal of Katherine Mansfield

Hotels

Hotels.

I seem to spend half of my life arriving at strange hotels. And asking if I may go to bed immediately.

page 87

“And would you mind filling my hot water bottle? … Thank you; that is delicious. No, I shan't require anything more.”

The strange door shuts upon the stranger, and then I slip down in the sheets. Waiting for the shadows to come out of the corners and spin their slow, slow web over the Ugliest Wallpaper of All.