More from the Motel

Your last report was very nice. I think the skyline view of New York
is a photo of a photo on the wall. This draws in the travelers. They can't
get a straight answer from the management. I can hear the
argument already. Through the bullet proof glass. Someone says
"try and stop me," turns out the lights. And the overconfident,
overly optimistic dad trying to make the best of it. Maybe intentions
like those should be stomped out like an old cigarette.

In the cafe, Luc Sante hangs out and drinks coffee. Smokes.
He does his typing here.

Maybe there's a family down the hall.
They live in the motel full time, trying to be appropriately suburban.
They occupy a few rooms. Go through the usual hassles. It's 100%
precisely like lives like ours . . . but the setting adds a degree
of absurdity. Tips things over.

The group that plays cards; the man that moves in to
have his nightmares. . . he has figured out a way to
batch them. Another man comes to do all his drinking
for the year. They meet somehow and swap potions.

An inventor of strange instruments. A man chained to a dead man.

Someone composing a religion. Two German techno legends.

Etc.