Finding borderland

It was a dingy hotel room. Didn't look at the curtains. Forget the bedsheets and the shapeless satins left by nameless people. The smell of antiseptic soap, the smell of once washed and many times touched white sheets.

I watch him shave. Through the half open door. Shaving, the old school method. He is like that in most things- traditional and not changing. At least I always knew where I stood with him. Outside his life. Or on the border when we had sex.

I don't care much for hotel rooms. The carpet...

He comes over to the bed I am sitting on. "Do you want to watch a movie?" he asks, taking my hands in his. I nod ecstatically.

"Dinner, movie and dancing if time permits." he adds in reckless measure, "the next time I promise."

We have sex and he sleeps. The movie plays on the television in the neighboring room.