The following is from the shared creative writing activity we participated in on Wednesday:
One, two, three, four… the red light flashed again and again, its crimson glow the only illumination this desolate city could conjure up. Not being someone who is usually up at this hour, I didn’t know quite what my eyes were telling me.
Was I there already? It was too late for my brain to connect, and the drive seemed too short for me to be in the capital already. I could barely remember why I was driving south anyways. Maybe this would be a good place to stop, just for a few hours? Exhaustion was seeping into my bones. I desperately needed rest. I drove forwards, into town, looking for any signs or markers that would indicate a place to stop. A few blocks ahead, there was an ancient wooden sign indicating a bed and breakfast.
A bell rang as I stepped inside, disrupting the eerie silence. I surveyed my surroundings, deciding if I should just sleep in my car or try my luck here. The lobby was sparsely decorated, but a giant, dusty chandelier hung squarely over a large rug. I felt a whisper of a breeze on my arm and turned, ready to bolt. A man stood at the counter. Old, with translucent skin. He had not been there a second ago.
“Looking for a room?” he asked. His voice was unexpectedly smooth. I could only stammer a “yes.” He motioned with his hand to follow him up the stairs. As I walked, there were shadows playing on the walls, flickering on the ceiling. But there was no distinguishable light source. Sometimes, I thought I could here a whisper follow me. We walked down a flight of stairs. But wait, hadn’t we just walked up a flight of stairs? Nope. Too much. I was leaving. I stuttered some lame excuse about an emergency to the old man and began to run back the way we had come. He just smiled and nodded. I turned left, up the stairs, then right and down. I was lost. How was this possible?…