SEAN LEFTWICH - ALWAYS GREENER

Sean Leftwich is a student at Full Sail University for a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. When he was thirteen years old, his first story "Mind Plague" won a schoolwide competition for best story, and he has been passionate about writing ever since. Through his stories, Sean strives to dig out the deepest of emotions and leave a lasting imprint on the reader. 
Sean has obtained a legendary desk chair whose name is too long for a standard bio that enhances his writing abilities to extraordinary levels. It is also extremely comfy.

ALWAYS GREENER

​Doris knew that there had been a mistake from the moment she opened the door.
            The floor itself was tainted a dark, stained green, with some patches brighter green than others. The air in the room gave off its own musk, like somebody tried to spray perfume on a dying animal. The room itself featured two individual beds with a nightstand separating them. Both of the beds were not made. The bed on the left had an overhead light that was dimly lit, although the light for the bed on the right was perfectly fine. A glass screen door led outside to a patio that was closed off from a meeting area, where a party was taking place.
            Doris nearly gagged as she came in the room. “This must have been a mistake,” she said.
            Bill came in the room, looking at it with a satisfactory smile. “Now would you look at this place. Talk about a honeymoon suite! To think, I got this place for next to nothing,” he said.
            “Funny, now let’s get our stuff before I throw up,” said Doris as she made her way out with a suitcase.
            “Where are you going?” Bill asked.
            “To get our honeymoon suite. I thought that was obvious.”
            “This is our honeymoon suite,” Bill said, his face now completely serious.
            “You’re kidding me, right?”
            Bill goes over and sits on the bed on the left. “Ok, so maybe I overlooked the two beds thing but that’s an easy fix. We can still just use one,” he said.
            “I’m not going to sleep on those beds. They probably haven’t been changed since in who knows how long,” said Doris.
            “Okay, so we’ll get the hotel to change the sheets before we go to bed.”
            “I don’t want to change the sheets. I want another room entirely.”
           
 
 
 as she stormed out to the closed in patio and plopped herself onto a bench.
***
            Outside, there were voices of people from the party going on the other side of the fence. The patio itself was wet from recent rainfall.
            Doris closed her eyes and put her head next to the fence and listened as they danced to her favorite song. It was a slow and graceful rhythm.
            Bill came out to the patio and sat down next to her.
            “Did I ever tell you that this was Vince and I’s favorite song to dance to?” Doris asked.
            “You’ve mentioned it a few times,” Bill said.
            “The guy couldn't dance to save his life. Four left feet he called it. He always did go out and dance with me though, despite how embarrassing it always looked,” Doris said. She picked her head up from the fence and turned to Bill. “You’ve never danced with me before,” she said.
            Bill stood up from his seat. “I'm going to bed,” he said.
            “I’ll take the bed on the right,” said Doris.
            Bill stormed back into the hotel room. His shoes, wet from the rainwater from the patio, seeped into the floor of the hotel room, darkening the brighter green spots of the floor when he went inside. Bill hopped into bed and turned off his dimly lit overhead light.
            Doris turned back to the party, closing her eyes and painting a picture of what is happening on the other side.