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.