motel-register:

This is your room. 

The is the place where you fell out of the bed at five years old.

Sometimes you think you’ve been on the floor all this time, eating argyle, but really you’ve done everything you can to forsake this place.

Now the gas station has taken over. And a convenience store. Highway 7 sells itself. You imagine a better sign might’ve saved it all, but it’s just crass time that’s done it in. 

We used to catch mosquitos with neon.

You broke down the door the last time you were here.

Still, everything was right as you left it. Immaculately set bedsheets. Floral wallpaper. Dial tone phone. The ghost of your father.

You want to flip the TV switch and collapse in your old bed. Fall asleep to the adventures of the Littlest Hobo. 

Let the room fill with snow from the beginning of the universe.

All photos by Todd Hido.