o’er the hills

The hotel had a indoor hike, all up hill – both ways. They were renovating, and I learned the ins and outs of the building. An Art Deco deal, highly desirable from a collectors standpoint seemed out of place considering the dated nature of the time.

A collection of communication devices, both rotary and cellular were present; a throwback to the time of memorization, rote repetition as the clicking of the dial returns to zero.

You’re not here in this building, and for some reason I am relieved; only to spot yet another conflict as two more guests check in.

There are risks going too fast. Once time is lost, it doesn’t come back. For two weeks I wandered the halls, a ghost in the walls; watching the comings and goings of the guests for their safety. This was by design.

I wasn’t allowed to leave, and I couldn’t stay. It was much more interesting than it sounds.

Drawing from the energies of the local TV station, I spot a familiar place. While I know it like the back of my hand, it still is so far away.

It was more efficient this way. No need to pack a bag, the enhancement of the vital energies are my carry-on.

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