Home for the Week

The 104, 105, 106 suite is at the end of the hall of the Laurel Building. Bright colored tiles mingling with pale ones making up the floor leading to the wooden door. A turn of the wooden handle allows access to the suite, even without a key. Entering, one crosses the line that separates the cool tiled hall from the dark, bare carpet of the suite interior. To the right a blue-grey counter juts from the wall and is lined with stiff wooden stools that have dips in the seats from constant use. Beyond the counter top is a miniature kitchen complete with wood cabinets, a shining metal sink, and a fridge, which is half hidden underneath the edge of the counter.
On the other side of the room across from the kitchen there is a large, unnaturally open sitting room. A couch with dark, sea blue seat cushions and a tan wood frame sits against one wall along with a wood side table that has an odd plastic look and feel. Along the opposite wall there are two chairs of the same construction and material as the couch, but these seats are a simple tan. A slightly larger table perfectly matching the side table near the couch sits in the space between the chairs. The floor separating the furniture against opposite walls is strangely empty and leaves a chasm between the seats.
Passing the gigantic counter top and the small space beyond it for the kitchen, the floor abruptly turns to tile. Around the corner of the kitchen wall there is a smooth grey counter top with two identical sinks set in and twin wood framed mirrors hanging from the wall, one in front of each. There are two think doors in this small tiled area. The one in the corner leads to a large bathroom while the one next to it gives access to a shower. The white porcelain looking walls are shielded from view by a plastic curtain hanging from a metal pole that spans the room from one wall to the other. A single, lonely metal hook sticks out of the wall for anyone using the shower to hang their clothes or towel on.
Turning left from the door to the shower there is immediately an opening leading to the double room of the suite. It is larger than the other two bedrooms because in here two beds, two desks, and two dressers all have to fit. However, even with all this furniture the space still feels open. Back out to the carpeted main room. There is another door directly off the end of the counter top. It requires a key- just like the other three- and gives access to a single room. The dark space holds a desk and dresser identical to the ones in the double room. The wood is smooth and has a synthetic texture to it. The drawer unit sits in the corner with its back against the wall with the window centered in it. Though the window is large, the four panes each have a set of binds inside of them that is controlled with a small switch in the molding. These can never be raised all the way so when looking out the window one's view is always obscured. Against the wall the dresser's corner is in there is a desk and chair that are so barren they always look pointless ans unused. Next to the desk there is a closet with a heavy door complete with a metal handle. It reminds one of a prison door in a way. It is as if the clothes and shoes inside are dangerous criminals who will try to escape their confines. The bed is shoved up alongside the wall so that the head is straight against the wall with the windows. The bed's mattress is sheathed in a plastic covering- like the ones seen in portable cribs. However, the wooded structure raises the bed unusually high off the ground so that there is plenty of open space underneath the crisp sheets hang down off the mattress and flutter is the window is opened. The blanket is large, pale, and feels woolly to the touch. The single room next to this one is a spitting image and the floors of all three bedrooms are made up of the same pale tiles of the hall.
The rooms of the suite may have an unnatural air to them, but it is still home for the week.