The Hotel

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He’d left the meeting later than he planned, and would never make it across state and home before he got too tired to focus on the road. Two nights in a hotel already, but one more at a different one wouldn’t be so bad.

The hotel looked okay from the road, blinking yellow neon alerting him to the fact that there was a vacancy. Besides, it was 1:30 in the morning, and he had already been yawning uncontrollably for twenty or so miles. This was probably as good as it was going to get.

He registered and the older woman behind the desk motioned the younger bellman over to show the man to his room and help with his bags. The corridor to his room was dark and quiet.

They reached the man’s room, and the bellman unlocked it using a key on a ring connected to a burgundy plastic tag. The man walked in as the bellman brought in his bag setting it down on the bed.

“Doesn’t look like you’re too busy tonight,” the traveller said, handing the bellman a couple of crumpled bells.

“Not terribly,” the bellman said. “I guess the last person to check in before you was about an hour ago.”

The man nodded, looking around the room. As the bellman made his way to the door, the man pulled opened the curtain to look out the window, but there was no window, only a blank wall with faded wallpaper.

“Of course, the last person to check out was maybe twenty-six years ago,” the bellman said shutting the door.

The lock clicked shut on the door with no features inside the room.