What We Lost on the Highway
The Sunrise Motel had twelve rooms. Three had working air conditioning. The sign on Route 62 had two letters missing—SUNRIE MOTEL—no one had replaced them in probably five years. Lily worked the front desk. Twenty-eight, Asian, red nail polish that was chipping, smokes Marlboros on the steps because the manager said no smoking inside but the manager wasn't around most of the night shift. I met...
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