The bed and breakfast advertised as "quaint" and "comfortable." Rocio gingerly placed her travel bag on the worn carpet and rang the bell for service. An old woman came tottering out in her nightgown, and barely taller than the counter she peered at her. Her manner was of one interrupted from a favorite TV show. She was a great deal deafer than she had been just a year previously and she squinted at her new customer, her spectacles had been lost and not replaced. "One night" she said, "thirty five dollars." A wrinkled hand shot over the counter. Rocio took a step backwards. The woman narrowed her eyes. "Twenty dollars!" she said. Rocio turned to leave to find her way barred by a pitt bull. "Fifty dollars!," she crowed as the dog's rumbling growl grew louder.
The room was no bigger than a cupboard. The beige wallpaper was peeling and you could see the damp creeping up the walls. The bed was narrow and no doubt cut smaller to fit in the room. Then the door locked behind her..