[FICTION]

[12/26/25]

The Green Light

by Erin Reese Alexander

Daniel, the hotel manager—who explained, for the fourth time, exactly why they had fucked up her room once again—had very white teeth. Amazingly white. He flashed them at the young mother like he knew this. Hating him, she fancied the hotel had paid for his tooth whitening. Did all employees here have the same white teeth—bared to trick tired women into complacency? She glared while Daniel looked downwards, once again, to a computer screen. Clicking away with kind professionalism, as if he weren’t checking his email.

“We’re sorry for the mistake.” Again Daniel smiled. Again she said nothing as she ripped the key from his hand, completing the same ritual they had performed all afternoon. The one in which he handed her a key to a room, she towed both luggage and toddler to this room, swiped the key, opened the door, and found it was not the right room at all. Not the room she had booked. And she and the baby would return to the lobby. And the young mother would complain. And Daniel would be sent for.

Four times she did this, each time successfully ascending one floor. At noon on the second floor, by 1:30 she had made it to the sixth—only one more to go. Having traveled, again, the labyrinthine, carpeted halls, she stopped and, forgetting herself, prayed while inserting the plastic key into its lock.

The green light appeared. The door swung open. She dropped her bag, inside which the crumpled black dress still lay, and placed the child on the bed before going to the window, and looking out.

The baby placed the key into its mouth, as the mother, alone, saw the view was exactly as she remembered, had not changed, not a bit, but stayed the same.

ERIN REESE ALEXANDER is a writer from Birmingham, Alabama. Her short stories, poetry, and essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, Voices & Visions, Folio, Quarto, Laurel Moon, 4×4, and elsewhere. Reese is pursuing her MFA in Literary Arts at Brown University. Most often, she writes about the South, and the people who live there. You may find more of her work at www.erinreesealexander.com.