16 views
A Grim Night in the Hotel Writco
#NeighborTales
I checked back in to the Hotel Writco after a brief absence touring the fields of misery. The hotel walls were the same stark white, the hallways cluttered - just as I remembered; all those six and a half days ago when I last checked out. The hotel chain tagline “Zillion Stories for Billion People” was still written across the arch in the lobby, just as grammatically nonsensical as ever. There were numerous AI generated images of pensive looking females holding heart shaped boxes lining the lobby walls.
Felt just like home.
On the way to my room I passed the concierge delivering the next poetic prompt via a paper slip under each door. He smiled at me graciously and I wondered if he knew the manager and could get me another Editor’s Choice delivered to my room. As if he could read my thoughts his smile became mildly sneering and I knew at once my place in the pecking order. I didn’t bother to ask.
In the doorway to my room there was the slip of paper with the prompt. The poetic guests were invited to write about what mysterious stuff they thought their neighbors were getting up to: #NeighborTales. I thought I would give this a try but decided to check out what had already been written first, which, as you will see, was necessary research.
I lay...
I checked back in to the Hotel Writco after a brief absence touring the fields of misery. The hotel walls were the same stark white, the hallways cluttered - just as I remembered; all those six and a half days ago when I last checked out. The hotel chain tagline “Zillion Stories for Billion People” was still written across the arch in the lobby, just as grammatically nonsensical as ever. There were numerous AI generated images of pensive looking females holding heart shaped boxes lining the lobby walls.
Felt just like home.
On the way to my room I passed the concierge delivering the next poetic prompt via a paper slip under each door. He smiled at me graciously and I wondered if he knew the manager and could get me another Editor’s Choice delivered to my room. As if he could read my thoughts his smile became mildly sneering and I knew at once my place in the pecking order. I didn’t bother to ask.
In the doorway to my room there was the slip of paper with the prompt. The poetic guests were invited to write about what mysterious stuff they thought their neighbors were getting up to: #NeighborTales. I thought I would give this a try but decided to check out what had already been written first, which, as you will see, was necessary research.
I lay...
