Sitting in a tiny hotel room again, alone.

Down the hall people are arguing and a door slams – sounds like home, and I grin to myself, but really this is a lonely life on the road.

The meetings have finished, and tomorrow brings an early flight, another country, another round of meetings, and another hotel room.

Why isn’t there a friendly smiling face awaiting my arrival?
Or is there? I know I wished for one.


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