The Room That Continues Without Me

I walk past a hotel corridor that bends gently downhill. The walls are white and the carpet is red. There is an open door with a small table by it, set for two. I pause and look into the room. A fruit sits on one of the plates. It has a grey skin and a pinkish flesh, and a texture like jelly that shifts and melts before my fingers. The room continues without me as I leave and walk further down the hall.