Every hotel room gets a clean start.

Everything in my hotel room is sparkling clean. The bedsheets are an immaculate white, crisp, and have a smell so fresh. The bathroom has been properly scrubbed and the sink and toilet are shining clean. Nothing in the entire space reminds us of the guests before us. There’s no trace left of who might have been the people that left it just hours before us. Who were they? What have these room’s walls heard and saw? Only if they could talk. They would tell so many stories.

Stories of families and friends, lovers and singles that lived a short chapter of their lives in this space that we’ll call for the next two weeks, home.