a cotton fold between a finger and thumb he pulled at a pearl button and drew the shirt closed over his chest. he looked down from the mirror and watched his wirey fingers work at the buttons over and over without meeting. his leathered hands trembled and he pulled a dry lip between his teeth as frustration and impatience wrinkled his wrinkled forehead. after pulling and fiddling for several minutes he paused and sat carefully on the edge of the hotel bed. he moved his toes around the confined space of his new leather shoes and rested his hands on pressed trousers. he drew a long breath and looked out towards the night. he met his reflection and looked deep into his tired eyes.
a short knock at the door broke his thoughts and a voice from beyond announced room service. he lifted himself from the bed with one hand, the other across his chest, and crossed the coarse carpet towards the door. he stooped towards the keyhole. "just, um, just, could you leave it outside a moment thank you". the small voice beyond the door agreed and a clatter and chink of porcelain was heard. he rose and glanced down at his open shirt. "actually would you mind terribly, um". he struggled with the latch on the door which he turned both ways and then both ways again. "do you think you could possibly, um". he turned and pulled and tugged and heard a trolley being wheeled away.
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