I Hate Those Words, I Hate Those Words.

Out of frustration, I banged my head against the wall. Or at least what I thought was the wall, I couldn’t even tell you which way was up.

I pressed my head against the nearest wall and heard mumbling. After further investigation, I realized I had found the elevator doors. Again, I pressed my ear on the doors and listened to what was happening mere feet in front of me. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, it was all mumbles, but I did catch some of it.


My current least favorite words in the English language.

Out of nowhere, the lights came back on, and the doors opened. I fell onto the floor, half out yet half in the elevator. Blinking repeatedly, I tried to get my sight back into focus. When it finally did, I pulled my feet up just in time for the elevator doors to close shut.

Room 665, room 665, where for art thou room 665?

I looked at the nearest room number – 629. I had a ways to go.

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