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From: Your Marriott Stay <your@opticaromana.com>
Reply-To: your@opticaromana.com
To:  bruce@untroubled.org
Subject:  Your gift from your last Marriott stay
Date: Tue, 13 Jan 2026 11:43:31 -0500
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I was walking through the park yesterday, the one with the big oak trees near the old fountain. The air had that crisp quality to it, not quite autumn but getting there. A man was sitting on a bench, feeding pigeons from a small paper bag. He wore a tweed cap and seemed completely absorbed in the task. I thought about how routines shape our days, these small rituals that anchor us. The pigeons gathered in a quiet circle, cooing softly, their heads bobbing in a rhythm only they understood. It reminded me of a documentary I saw about city wildlife, how these birds have adapted to urban life over generations. The man finished his bag, crumpled it, and placed it neatly in a bin nearby. He stood, adjusted his cap, and walked away without a backward glance. The pigeons scattered for a moment, then settled back onto the pavement, waiting. I continued on my path, past the playground where children were laughing on the swings. Their voices carried on the wind, a sound of pure, uncomplicated joy. A woman was pushing a stroller, talking softly to the baby inside. I wondered what stories she was telling. Maybe about the clouds, shaped like sailing ships, or about the dog chasing a ball in the distance. Life in these moments feels like a series of connected vignettes, each person the main character in their own story, briefly intersecting with others. I reached the edge of the park where the city sounds began to filter back in—the hum of traffic, a distant siren. The transition is always interesting, from the green quiet to the gray bustle. I decided to take the long way home, past the bakery. The smell of fresh bread is one of those universal comforts, isn't it The bell on the door jingled as someone exited, holding a warm, paper-wrapped loaf. Simple pleasures. The sky was beginning to turn a softer blue, hinting at the evening to come. I made a mental note to call my sister later. We had been meaning to plan a visit. Time has a way of slipping by if you don't pay attention. I finally turned onto my street, my thoughts slowing to match my steps. Home. Another day, another collection of small, observed moments. It’s good to notice things.
Marriott
HOTELS
A Note of Appreciation for Your Recent Stay
As someone who stayed at a Marriott Hotel or a partner hotel in the last twelve months, we are providing a luxury cooling pillow set at no charge to your household. This two-pillow set is our way of thanking you. Once you complete a brief questionnaire, you may also secure a two-night stay at participating locations, which is also provided at no charge. You will not be billed for the pillows or the stay nights.
Program details: One pillow set per household. We have 800 sets available. This opportunity concludes tomorrow. Access to stay dates is coordinated through the program schedule.
Participate To Get Your Pillows + 2 Night Stay
Features of Luxury Cooling Pillows
Designed to maintain a comfortable temperature throughout the night.
High-quality materials offer consistent support for head and neck.
The cooling effect can contribute to more restful sleep.
Hygienic properties help manage moisture.
Durable construction is intended for long-term use.
Adapts to various sleeping positions for personalized comfort.
Quantities for this appreciation program are predetermined.
We value your choice to stay with Marriott. Your perspective helps us enhance the experience for all guests.
The workshop was quiet, save for the gentle scratching of a pencil on paper. Lena was sketching, not with any grand plan, but letting her hand move freely across the page. Outside, rain began to tap against the windowpane, a soft percussion to her thoughts. She remembered her grandfather’s workshop, smelling of sawdust and oil, where he would repair clocks. The steady tick-tock was the soundtrack of her childhood visits. He would explain the mechanics, the balance wheel, the mainspring, how everything relied on precise tension. She never became a clockmaker, but she appreciated the lesson in interconnected parts. Her sketch was turning into a landscape, a hill under a vast sky. It felt peaceful. Her cat, Milo, jumped onto the table, curious about the moving pencil. He batted at it once, then settled into a loaf shape, purring. The simple companionship was comforting. She thought about how different activities bring different kinds of quiet. The quiet of concentration, the quiet of contentment, the quiet of a rainy afternoon. The phone rang, a jarring sound in the calm space. It was her friend, asking about plans for the weekend. They talked about maybe going to the museum, or just cooking a meal together. It was nice to have options, to leave space for spontaneity. After the call, she returned to her sketch, adding a few more lines to the clouds. The rain had lightened to a drizzle. She decided to make a cup of tea. The ritual of boiling water, choosing a mug, waiting for it to steep—it was a small mindfulness practice. As she waited, she looked at her bookshelf, rows of stories waiting to be revisited. She picked one at random, an old novel with a cracked spine. Opening it, she found a pressed flower, a daisy, perfectly flat and dry. She had forgotten about it. It must have been from a walk years ago. A tiny artifact from a past self. It made her smile. The kettle whistled. She poured the water, watching the tea leaves swirl and expand. Carrying the mug back to her desk, she sat down. Milo had not moved. The afternoon stretched ahead, unhurried. She took a sip of tea, warmth spreading from her hands to her chest. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is nothing in particular. Just be present with the rain, the cat, the sketch, and the memory of a ticking clock. It’s enough.

http://www.opticaromana.com/chits

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I was walking through the park yesterday, the one with the big oak trees near the old fountain. The air had that crisp quality to it, not quite autumn but getting there. A man was sitting on a bench, feeding pigeons from a small paper bag. He wore a tweed cap and seemed completely absorbed in the task. I thought about how routines shape our days, these small rituals that anchor us. The pigeons gathered in a quiet circle, cooing softly, their heads bobbing in a rhythm only they understood. It reminded me of a documentary I saw about city wildlife, how these birds have adapted to urban life over generations. The man finished his bag, crumpled it, and placed it neatly in a bin nearby. He stood, adjusted his cap, and walked away without a backward glance. The pigeons scattered for a moment, then settled back onto the pavement, waiting. I continued on my path, past the playground where children were laughing on the swings. Their voices carried on the wind, a sound of pure, uncomplicated joy. A woman was pushing a stroller, talking softly to the baby inside. I wondered what stories she was telling. Maybe about the clouds, shaped like sailing ships, or about the dog chasing a ball in the distance. Life in these moments feels like a series of connected vignettes, each person the main character in their own story, briefly intersecting with others. I reached the edge of the park where the city sounds began to filter back in—the hum of traffic, a distant siren. The transition is always interesting, from the green quiet to the gray bustle. I decided to take the long way home, past the bakery. The smell of fresh bread is one of those universal comforts, isn't it The bell on the door jingled as someone exited, holding a warm, paper-wrapped loaf. Simple pleasures. The sky was beginning to turn a softer blue, hinting at the evening to come. I made a mental note to call my sister later. We had been meaning to plan a visit. Time has a way of slipping by if you don't pay attention. I finally turned onto my street, my thoughts slowing to match my steps. Home. Another day, another collection of small, observed moments. It’s good to notice things.
</div>
<center>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="max-width:600px;margin:0 auto;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:8px;overflow:hidden;box-shadow:0 4px 12px rgba(0,0,0,0.05);">
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<td style="padding:32px 40px 24px;text-align:center;border-bottom:1px solid #eaeaea;">
<div style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;font-size:42px;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:-0.5px;color:#9e1b32;line-height:1;">Marriott</div>
<div style="font-size:14px;color:#5a5a5a;margin-top:8px;letter-spacing:1px;">HOTELS</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:40px 40px 32px;">
<h1 style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif;font-size:28px;line-height:1.3;color:#222222;margin-top:0;margin-bottom:16px;font-weight:600;">A Note of Appreciation for Your Recent Stay</h1>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#444444;margin-bottom:24px;">
As someone who stayed at a Marriott Hotel or a partner hotel in the last twelve months, we are providing a luxury cooling pillow set at no charge to your household. This two-pillow set is our way of thanking you. Once you complete a brief questionnaire, you may also secure a two-night stay at participating locations, which is also provided at no charge. You will not be billed for the pillows or the stay nights.
</p>
<div style="background-color:#f9f5f1;border-left:4px solid #d82a49;padding:20px 24px;margin:32px 0;border-radius:0 4px 4px 0;">
<p style="margin:0;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#333;">
<strong>Program details:</strong> One pillow set per household. We have 800 sets available. This opportunity concludes tomorrow. Access to stay dates is coordinated through the program schedule.
</p>
</div>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="margin:40px 0;text-align:center;">
<tr>
<td>
<a href="http://www.opticaromana.com/chits" style="background-color:#2c2c2c;color:#ffffff;padding:18px 48px;text-decoration:none;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;border-radius:50px;display:inline-block;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;box-shadow:0 3px 8px rgba(44,44,44,0.2);">Participate To Get Your Pillows + 2 Night Stay</a>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 40px 40px;">
<h2 style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif;font-size:22px;color:#222222;margin-top:0;margin-bottom:20px;padding-bottom:12px;border-bottom:2px dotted #ddd;">Features of Luxury Cooling Pillows</h2>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:12px;border:1px solid #ededed;background-color:#fcfcfc;border-radius:6px;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#444;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;">
<li style="margin-bottom:10px;">Designed to maintain a comfortable temperature throughout the night.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom:10px;">High-quality materials offer consistent support for head and neck.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom:10px;">The cooling effect can contribute to more restful sleep.</li>
</ul>
</td>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:12px;border:1px solid #ededed;background-color:#fafafa;border-radius:6px;">
<ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#444;font-size:15px;line-height:1.7;">
<li style="margin-bottom:10px;">Hygienic properties help manage moisture.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom:10px;">Durable construction is intended for long-term use.</li>
<li style="margin-bottom:10px;">Adapts to various sleeping positions for personalized comfort.</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p style="font-size:14px;color:#666;font-style:italic;margin-top:24px;text-align:center;">
Quantities for this appreciation program are predetermined.
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:32px 40px;background-color:#f0f0f0;text-align:center;border-top:1px solid #ddd;">
<p style="margin:0;font-size:14px;color:#555;line-height:1.5;">
We value your choice to stay with Marriott. Your perspective helps us enhance the experience for all guests.
</p>
<div style="height:1px;background-color:#9e1b32;width:120px;margin:24px auto 0;"></div>
</td>
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</table>
</center>
<div style="font-size:8px;line-height:10px;color:#f8f8f8;font-family:Arial;margin-top:20px;text-align:center;">
The workshop was quiet, save for the gentle scratching of a pencil on paper. Lena was sketching, not with any grand plan, but letting her hand move freely across the page. Outside, rain began to tap against the windowpane, a soft percussion to her thoughts. She remembered her grandfather’s workshop, smelling of sawdust and oil, where he would repair clocks. The steady tick-tock was the soundtrack of her childhood visits. He would explain the mechanics, the balance wheel, the mainspring, how everything relied on precise tension. She never became a clockmaker, but she appreciated the lesson in interconnected parts. Her sketch was turning into a landscape, a hill under a vast sky. It felt peaceful. Her cat, Milo, jumped onto the table, curious about the moving pencil. He batted at it once, then settled into a loaf shape, purring. The simple companionship was comforting. She thought about how different activities bring different kinds of quiet. The quiet of concentration, the quiet of contentment, the quiet of a rainy afternoon. The phone rang, a jarring sound in the calm space. It was her friend, asking about plans for the weekend. They talked about maybe going to the museum, or just cooking a meal together. It was nice to have options, to leave space for spontaneity. After the call, she returned to her sketch, adding a few more lines to the clouds. The rain had lightened to a drizzle. She decided to make a cup of tea. The ritual of boiling water, choosing a mug, waiting for it to steep—it was a small mindfulness practice. As she waited, she looked at her bookshelf, rows of stories waiting to be revisited. She picked one at random, an old novel with a cracked spine. Opening it, she found a pressed flower, a daisy, perfectly flat and dry. She had forgotten about it. It must have been from a walk years ago. A tiny artifact from a past self. It made her smile. The kettle whistled. She poured the water, watching the tea leaves swirl and expand. Carrying the mug back to her desk, she sat down. Milo had not moved. The afternoon stretched ahead, unhurried. She took a sip of tea, warmth spreading from her hands to her chest. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is nothing in particular. Just be present with the rain, the cat, the sketch, and the memory of a ticking clock. It’s enough.
</div>
<img src="http://www.opticaromana.com/open/YnJ1Y2VAdW50cm91YmxlZC5vcmc.png" width="1" height="1" style="display:none" alt="">
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