Mini stories about life; because humanity is everywhere.

Jade lifts the corner of the shiny thin sheet on the queen-sized bed and peers under it. No bed bugs, she thinks, thank God for small miracles.

She is wearing a short pink nightgown with lace for straps that she bought with her waitressing tips. She takes in the room–– the patchy mauve carpeting, the yellowing lamp shades, the sour-apple smell of the place.

“I can do this,” she says to the empty motel room. “Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.”

Flicking on the light in the tiny bathroom, Jade applies lipstick for the second time in half an hour. She avoids her image in the mirror above the sink, afraid that she’ll see the face of her Catholic mother instead; that small gold cross with the diamond chip nestled at the base of her neck, her lips pursed and her brown eyes wide with the horror of what her daughter was about to do.

There is a soft knock on the door of Room 24. Her panic flares. I can escape out the bathroom window. I can say I changed my mind. But it’ll be over quickly and I really need the money. Maybe I can pretend to be somebody else. It’s now or never.

Now there’s a second knock, more urgent.

Jade stands in front of the door. She pulls down the hem of her little pink nighty, pushes her shoulders back, takes a deep breath, and swings the door open.

She stares at the man in front of her and feels the wind knocked out of her lungs. Who knew this could happen without falling?

Standing there, in the dim light of the motel hallway, is her community college professor.

“Dr. Schultz?”

It’s the man who gave her a C last semester because she was late turning in her homework even though she explained to him that she didn’t have her own laptop and the school library’s computers were down for three days.

It’s the man who always comes to class wearing faded corduroy slacks and pastel short-sleeved Hawaiian print shirts paired with leather dress shoes.

It’s the man with wire-rimmed glasses and thick salt-and-pepper hair who strides around the classroom, waving his arms while lecturing. This man who frightens her more than just a little bit.

He scowls. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Jade feels the heat of embarrassment climb up her neck and clamber onto her face, an affective sunburn.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” His frown deepens. “A prank?”

“Look, this is a mistake, never mind.” Jade tries to close the door.

“Wait. Let me get out of the hallway.” He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed.

“It’s Jade, isn’t it? From my Tuesday-Thursday World History class?”

Jade finds her backpack and pulls on her sweatshirt. “I’m leaving. My mother will be wondering where I am.”

It is Jade’s first falsehood of the day; her mother is still at work and will be there until midnight. Oh God. Oh God. Will she have to drop the class?

He asks, “How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?” Jade holds the backpack hard against her breasts.

“I don’t understand. You’re a pretty girl. Bright. Top student. How the hell did you get in this situation?”

“Me? Aren’t we both in this situation?”

“You’re right, of course. First time I’ve ever done anything like this…” he waves his hand in her direction. “…and look what happens.”

Jade isn’t listening. She is busy working out her next steps.

“You’re too young to understand this. What are you, Jade, nineteen? A friend told me he could hook me up with someone for a couple of hours. He said I’d thank him in the morning.”

He looks up but can’t find her eyes. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that it could be a college student. You’ve got to believe me. That’s not my thing. Never has been.” His face wears the regret like patchy mold on a pond.

“Whatever.” Jade moves towards the door. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to drop World History tomorrow so don’t worry.”

“Wait! If you drop the class, it’s too late to get a refund. Hundreds of dollars wasted.” Jack pulls out a wad of bills. “Look, take this, please.”

Jade holds up one palm. “I don’t want your money.”

Jack is laying the bills on the side table, more twenties than she’s ever seen. His words float over his shoulder as he steps out of the motel room. “Stay in the class, hear me?”