I shake my head wearily, then say “New? Yeah, I guess I am.”
The woman sits down next to me on the bed, and shoots me a sympthetic smile. “I don’t really have any answers for you. I’m not sure where this is. I’ve figured out that the hotel looks slightly different to everyone here, but the general layout is the same. No-one here is quite what they seem, I think.”
I let that sink in for a moment. Looking different? But…
“The people, by the way. They look like they come from all over. Uh. All over time. Space too, maybe. You’ll see. Just don’t be too freaked — it marks you out as new. Vulnerable, perhaps. Some of them are a bit unpredictable. Not just people, too. You hear stories. People vanish; home, elsewhere, dead, I don’t know.”
“Come on,” I say, protesting. “That’s just crazy. I was outside Milwaukee. I am outside Milwaukee…” I look up at myself in the mirror, and the words die in my mouth, drowning in glowing pink eyes.
There’s a movement at the door. I look up, and there’s a very tall, magnificently-dressed African guy standing in the doorway. He’s as bald as an egg, and dressed in flowing silks of red and gold.
He glances at me, and then looks at the woman. “Alice. Is everything alright with you?”
She smiles at him. “It’s fine, Massinisa. Thank you.”
He nods. “Very well.” Then he’s gone again.
I look at the woman, and then...
- ... deliberately get up, walk over to the window, and open the curtain. (50%)
- ... say "If we're seeing different things, what does this room look like?" (42%)
- ... say "Alice?" (8%)
- ... say "Unpredictable? Stories? What do you mean?" (0%)
Voting Closes at: August 12, 2009 @ 1:00 pm
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