I'm Not Gonna Waste These Words

She wakes up in Vegas, eyes blurry, bones sore from whatever has happened to her in the past 3 days. It's 3:37 A.M. according to the motel room clock. She gets up to look out the glass door, only to fall back on the bed again. Every part of her body aches. The only sounds she can here are the cars outside and a couple arguing on the other side of the wall. She sits up on the bed wondering what she's going to do. She's all alone in Las Vegas. No money. No phone. No food. The only clothing she has is her petticoat minidress. She tries once again to get up, using the walls for support. She moves around the room, feeling the walls for a light switch. Once she finds one she looks around the room. There's one bed in the middle of the room, her dress is on the floor, and her purse is on the table. She shudders at the thought of what might have happened on that bed as she walks over to the night table and opens the drawer. Sure enough, there's a bible. She takes it out and puts it in her purse, then puts her clothes on. She walks over the glass door again and slides it open. Stepping out the balcony, she feels free. The smell of the fresh air is so nice that she wants to stay right here forever. Even though it's still dark, the lights from all the buildings make it look like it's daytime. She leans on the railing, looking down at the street.