Experiment i form och metod II

As the last shred of daylight disappeared from my ceiling (the setting sun sends its rays progressively higher through the blinds in a window facing to the west), I tried to recall how I actually ended up here in this town, where the hamburgers tasted like cancer and the sub sandwhiches tasted like mad cow disease and apparently those were the only things that actually were what they seemed, and how I ended up in this motel room devoid of all taste AND functionality seeing as the walls were mint green, the floor crimson red, and the ceiling, the same ceiling that no longer sported a shred of daylight, was probably once painted in a plaster white, but had gone so long without a wash, that the countless cigarettes (or as in my case miniature cigars) that had been smoked, despite the manager’s fervent urging of people not to smoke had coloured it something closer to brown, with occasional smudges of soot black where people must have been literally standing on the bed and lighting their prefered choice of smoking tobacco above their heads.

The motel was easy: it was the third motel on the third exit going OUT of town, as always was the case, though I could no longer recall when, where or why that practice started in the first place (or should that be the third place?); and as for the town, I really couldn’t say, since the dice had told me to take the road south east out of the last town I was in, and then later had told med to stop in the fifth town I passed on the fifth day of driving for five hours – but still it didn’t really matter, since I could always move.