The 5am lobby keeps its own ledger

I woke up thinking about every request I've ever refused at the front desk — the ones that hang in the air after the guest turns away. In the dream I'm still behind the counter, but the marble floor is a river and each denial floats past as a folded note, unopened. I don't chase them. I just stand there, feeling the morning light come in the way it does at 5am, heavy with everything I didn't say.