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THE REDEMPTION WRITING PROMPT AND NEWSLETTER: NOVEMBER 2026

The Hot Sheet Motel

Escaping what sort of hell?

Robert Gowty

Sent as aNewsletter

5 min readNov 4, 2026

Chad pulled into my street to drop me off after our day at university.

We always let him drive. His hot, red convertible reflected well on all of us.

Doug was the main objector. He had a cool car, too, but other things on his mind. “So Chad, how about I drive tomorrow. I know it’s your hot step mum’s day off tomorrow and perhaps we could come in for a glass of home made lemonade?”

Chad gave out a little chuckle as he shook his head. “Doug. You are the worst.”

I knew Chad didn’t think Doug was the worst because this was a recurring joke amongst the gang. I was glad they never talked about my step mum like that. She was plain, sensible and kind. A proper adult. She never had that suggestive leer in her voice when she asked my friends how their day had been.

Chad pulled into the curb to let me out. “See ya tomorrow, Phil.”

She was my step mum, but for over a decade she’d just been mum. In many ways she was better company than my dad and she like having me around. There was a serial killer on the loose and my dad never finished work until a late hour, so I guess she felt a little safer when I was there.

“Hey, Philip. How was your day?”

“Yeh, good. Not much on tomorrow. Might even skip it. And you?”

“Good, good. Hey, that new Keanu Reeves comedy, Gone Sick, is out on Netflix tonight. Did you see it at the cinema? Thought I might put my feet up after dinner and have a look. Interested?”

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t mind a look.”

We watched movies together all the time. I took the couch, mum the armchair, and the side table between us was always stacked with delicious drinks and tasty snacks.

To my surprise, the movie was hilarious. The scene with the jar of vaseline and the cotton candy was just too much and mum was literally rolling around the floor with laughter.

“OK, Philip. Can you pause it. This is killing me! I need another drink!”

As she got up off the rug, she stumbled, lost her balance and slammed hard into me on the couch. When I say hard, she nonetheless felt incredibly soft as her breasts pressed against my chest. It was super awkward and we both blushed. I tried to lean back as far as I could, stretching my arm over the back of the couch. I could feel something. Something that wasn’t there before.

We heard a car in the driveway. Mum leapt up. “OK, some drinks.” By the time dad got inside we were back watching the movie.

Next morning, I awoke and the house was empty. I went down stairs to investigate what I’d felt behind the couch last night. A panel of plasterboard had been cut out and replaced. I pulled the panel out and found a box. The box was full of evidence that pointed to me as the serial killer. In an instance, I knew dad was the serial killer and he was planning on framing me should the law ever catch up with him.

I panicked. Racing around the house, I found a few other items that connected to the items in the box, but the box sealed it. I grabbed it all and raced out to the car. I didn’t know where to go and just took off.

I needed somewhere to hide for a bit.

At the top of the hill, I saw the Hilltop Motel. We often drove past and I always commented how much I liked the sign. Mum would say no one we knew would ever go there. She said it was a hot sheet motel. I didn’t know what that meant.

I pulled in and headed to reception. Rooms by the hour? Odd. “Ummm, can I get room for the night?”
“The whole night?”
“If that’s available.”

I got to my room, settled on the bed, just as the phone rang. It was mum.

“Where are you? The police have just been and have taken your dad in for questioning. They’re going to want to talk to us, next.”

We decided it was best not to discuss it too much and I hung up the phone.

I dozed off. I wasn’t sure for how long, but I was awaken by a knock at the door.

The Prompt

You’ve ended up in a sleazy motel. How did you get there? Why are you there? Who is knocking at the door, and why?

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The theme can inspire a shorter flash Transgressive Thursday story, or a longer tale, and you can write more than once.
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October Response

Thanks Steve!

The Basement by Steve

We’ve been very excited to see the renewed activity at Redemption since the recent resurrection of the monthly newsletter, so if you’ve got a transgressive motel story, we’d love to hear it! Nikos Skordilis Jacques Gerard Jodi Floyd Nemo Omnis Debdutta Pal Zatanna Dark Ann James