Shucks! The back view of a hotel was always so depressing. I don’t care if people paid premium charges for the sea view from the rooms. I found them depressing. What was happening in the lives of people behind those windows? Were they living with fake identities, executing secret missions, relaxing after a hard day’s work, or just relaxing? They were all shady in my eyes.
I loved the plush lobbies, the high-end restaurants, spas and salons, as long as they were on Level Zero. I just couldn’t enter an elevator, and move upwards in those fancy glass capsules. My wife would happily send me to a shrink, to cure the claustrophobia. She thinks elevators and hotel rooms asphyxiate me. She is tired of staying in cottages and tents on vacations, and wants to experience the luxury of a plush, high-end hotel.
I had toyed with the idea several times, but, just couldn’t bring myself to share my childhood memories, and my nightmare …. the sight of my mother’s body lying in a pool of blood, behind a hotel. She had jumped from a window to meet her end. People say that she was hired by some guests for …….
Inspired by Sunday Photo Fiction