Hotel Marna

She arrives at the hotel at 1 pm. Horrible street. The siren from an ambulance is still ringing in her ear. There were two peculiar noisy men on the train and she just stood there, on her seat, looking out the window, hoping they'd stop calling her and trying to get her attention. They left in the end, thank God, before she had to get off the train. It might seem she should feel troubled and scarred. She is perfectly calm. The ambulance seems so common, the mess, the ruins right next to the hotel. Like the world is supposed to be chaos and trouble and she is just floating around, asking for a room, waiting, the classic moment, before giving a name...her actual name even and going up to the room. 203. She loved the number because it remembered her of nothing. No birthdays, no significant dates, no special hour or anything like that. Just a number. She also left the key at the desk for him to open the door by himself when he arrives. She'd hate to hear the knock. She feared it might wake her to some sort of reality. After a while he appeared. He was troubled, cold. Their eyes met and then it was easy. . .
-Why did you come here?, he asked.
She didn't answer right away. She got up. Took the robe she had left near the bed on purpose and took a cigarette out of her purse and a lighter.
-You know, in the movies, everyone covers the fire from the lighter with their hands when they light up, all the time. I never understood why they do that if they are in the house. I never do that.
She light up the cigarette with the flame exposed. She didn't cover it with her hands.
He was still waiting for an answer which is strange for him so she said.
-So I can smoke.

.........

Yes, I have been watching a little too much Mad Men. Ah , I love it.