Tiles Stories

The anticipation makes my hands tremble as I sit riveted to the plush leather chair. The large clock above the bar across the marbled floor in the hotel lobby reads 18:35. The hubbub of the hotel guests may have quietened to idle chatter and clinks of glasses, but the pounding of my heart has not, her messages burned into my brain. The things she promised to do if we were ever alone. I know we shouldn't meet: there's so m...