Lonely Hotel

    “Well, I guess that’s about it, Thomas,” Aldous said with a grimace followed by a long sigh. “I’ll surely miss this place.”

    “You are not the only one, sir,” replied Thomas as he took a final glance at the porcelain tiles that covered the ceiling. There was one that always caught his eye. It was brighter than the rest, almost blinding to look at as the midday sun cast it’s rays on it. It was his favorite. There was a small stain in the corner – the bathtub in room eleven once overflowed and covered the entire level. The moisture from the onslaught of water caused a very small, but very noticeable stain in one of it’s corners where the water had seeped through. “Everyone will.”

    Aldous smiled. He took the first of about twenty keys off of it’s hook and appreciated the glisten of light reflecting off of it’s sharp edges before he clenched it in his palm. “I want you to have this. A keepsake to remember all of the good times we had.”

    He motioned for Thomas to come near.

    Thomas was a kind man, he had been with Aldous since the beginning. Thomas’ mother had come to Aldous many years ago asking for a job for her son. You see, Thomas wasn’t what you would call a good kid, he often got into mischief with his friends: Avoiding his schooling at all costs, stealing a whiskey bottle from the saloon while his pals distracted Jenkins, the bartender. All of this was not out of the norm  for him. His mother wanted to give him an escape.

    Never once had he hesitated to do what Aldous asked. He always treated the man with courtesy and respect – quite the contrary to what his mother described him as. Well, that was many years ago. No longer was Thomas a boy, he was a man. Still, Aldous treated him as a son just as Thomas considered Aldous a father.

    “What’s this?” Thomas asked as Aldous placed the key in his hand.

    “It’s a key,” paused Aldous as he held back tears, “and I want you to keep it. Promise me you won’t get rid of it, alright?”

    “I promise.” replied Thomas sternly.

    “Good.” He smiled as he headed towards the door so Thomas wouldn’t see the tears running down his cheeks.

    “Wait,” yelled Thomas before Aldous reached the exit, “let's get one last picture. What do you say?”

    Aldous reached for the starched handkerchief in his left pocket and whiped his face dry. He turned to Thomas with a reassuring look, “Alright.”

    Thomas prepared the camera that was roughly ten feet away, “Get ready.”

    “Ready.” said Aldous.

    They both forced a smile on their aged faces as the shutter on the camera opened and closed, forever capturing the moment.