Anonymous: Before Justice gets killed

The hotel room is medium-sized and definitely not shabby at all. Everything is decorated with calming hues of beige. The gauzy brown curtains are on every side of me. There’s a long glass cane table at the centre of the room, chairs that are positioned facing each other giving me the intimacy I crave. I avoid the windows in the room because they are too enormous, too wide and disobey discretion to the fullest. The roman wall clock directly above the four-inch telly tells me she’s late. She’s always late, as though she hasn’t the care or regret for being so. As if I’m not someone she needs to rush over to. I stifle a sigh as I wait for her arrival and the minutes tick by till there’s a notification on my phone.

At best, she’s apologetic and at worst, she’s an hour late. Moving over to the door, I unlock it and return to my seat. She prefers to sit on the bed