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Moth sits up and looks around blearily, moths eyes still partially closed, as though longing to still be in the dark comfort of dead, dreamless sleep. Moth stretches, and feels something pop in moths back in a way that was not pleasant.
“Good evening, Moth,” Ray says, speaking through the radio, “You’re starting to sound like an antique back there, sleeping like that can’t be good for your back.”
“I sleep-er-slept like this all the time, back in Vegas. I think I’ll be fine.”
“No, we’re going to find you a proper bed to sleep on. Tell you what, an associate of mine just opened a hotel not too far from here, maybe about twenty miles out? You hungry? I hear they make some killer strawberry daiquiris. Might be good to talk to some other people.”
Moth looks out the window at the nearly desolate landscape around them. Downed power lines, dilapidated billboards advertising roadside attractions long since abandoned, miles upon miles of empty, desecrated fields.
“Yeah, I’d…I’d like that. Thanks.”
“No problem, kiddo.”
They drive in silence for a while, Moth watching the miles fly by out the window, occasionally reading out a billboard or two to Ray, while absentmindedly flipping through radio stations.
Soon enough, Ray pulls into the lot of a grand looking hotel, it looked incredibly out of place against the barren backdrop.
“Here we are, kid, now when you go in there, you tell em Ray sent ya, ok?”
“Are you sure you’ll be alright out here by yourself?” Moth asks.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m an automobile, I’m designed to hang out outside of places, I’ll be fine. You go in there, and you get yourself something to eat, and you stay in one of their rooms, ok? I promise you, I’ll be ok out here, I won’t leave you behind.”
“Thanks, Ray. You’re awesome.”
Moth gently closes the door, and nervously approaches the doors, partially hidden behind tall columns, moth looks back at Ray for reassurance before opening the doors and stepping inside the lobby of the Grand Crossroads Hotel.
“Welcome to the Grand Crossroads Hotel, what can I do for you?” the front desk person, a man with bright red hair and flaming horns, says, smiling warmly down at moth.
“Hi, I’d like to book a room, do you have any available?” moth asks timidly.
“Well, it looks like we do. Say, are you Ray’s kid?” He asks.
“Uh, yeah, how did you know?”
The man says nothing, just smiles and hands moth the room key.
“Thanks, sir.”
“Of course.”
Moth wanders further into the hotel, pausing occasionally to look up at the vaulted ceilings and the beautiful paintings on the walls. Soon enough, moth finds the lounge area, along with the bar/restaurant area. Moth sits at the bar, cape flowing off the back of the chair.
“What can I get started for you on this fine evening?” the bartender, who appeared to be made of crystals, with a small name tag reading “[DIMES]” asked
“Yeah, could I get a strawberry daiquiri? Preferably with not too much alcohol, please? And some pancakes, if you make them? Thank you so much.”
Moth looks around at the other patrons of the bar, including a sentient quilt, a lady who was almost certainly a vampire, and a person who appeared to be made of mushrooms. Moth is not fazed by any of this, as moth sips moths drink.
“Damn, Ray was right, they do make killer daiquiris.”
“You’d be surprised by what we cook up here,” Dimes replies as they make a drink that appears to be mostly blood, partially red wine, presumably for the vampire lady who had settled in a couple seats down from moth. She smiles at moth, lifting her glass before returning to the conversation she was having with the bartender. Moth leaves a tip on the bar and heads back to the hotel rooms, counting quietly until moth finds moths room. Moth unlocks the door, and it swings open into a room much bigger than the room moth had in Vegas. Moth sets moths stuff down on the small table next to the bed. Moth opens the door to the bathroom and is relieved to find a shower. Moth can’t remember the last time moth had taken a shower.
After the shower, moth sits on the bed, curled up in a fluffy blanket, hair wrapped up in a towel, reading one of moths favorite books, one of the few moth had been able to grab before leaving Vegas. Eventually, moth starts to feel drowsy, and burrows further under the covers, listening to the faint din of hotel guests down the hall. Moth glances out the window and sees Ray. He must have seen moth in the window because he flashes his headlights, a gentle reminder, Hey, I’m still here. Moth eventually drifts off to sleep, wonderfully deep, nightmare-less sleep, the best sleep moth had gotten in gods know how long.