“It looks like a crypt,” he said to himself as he got off the bus. It was the correct address for the hotel his buddy had directed him to when he arrived in town. He had traveled across the country, the whole of America, to play with a band here.
He had no money, but his buddy said that wouldn’t be a problem at this establishment. He pushed open the heavy door. It was dirty and dark inside. It smelled. There was a hotel counter on his right with a bell and a dim light. He rang the bell.
A Goth-looking girl materialized behind the counter. She remarked they had been expecting him. She directed him to what she called a room, but it was just a space, with a dirty cot and a wash basin. The girl invited him to happy hour.
He sat down on the cot and thought about leaving, but he had no money. He wandered down the hall to the place the Goth-girl directed him to for happy hour.
He walked in to order a drink but stopped dead in his tracks. The people were all in Goth attire and makeup and they were dancing an odd dance. He had a bad feeling. He’d find somewhere else.
Grabbing his stuff, he went up to the hotel counter to check out. No one was there, but there was a small sign. It said, “You can check out any time you like but you can’t ever leave.”
For your listening pleasure:
”Hotel California,” by The Eagles
Thanks to CE Ayr and Jenne Gray for hosting the Unicorn Challenge!
The Write Scribe 