The smell of stale cigarette smoke fills my nose as I step into the dim light of the Hopper Inn. The aged oak desk is empty, so I ring the small bell on the corner of it. While I wait, I stick my hands into my pockets and look around. Everything about the hotel is old; the furniture is scraggly, the carpet is threadbare, and even the fluorescent lights overhead seem to be from the last century. “Can I help you?” I was jolted out of my thoughts by a gravelly voice behind me. I turned and was met by the sight of a shriveled raisin of a man. His white-haired head barely topped the counter and he leaned heavily on a gnarled walking stick. “Actually, yeah. I was hoping to rent a room,” I managed to get out the simple sentence without stumbling over my words. “Like maybe for the whole summer? If that’s a possibility.” He nodded and slowly turned around, grabbing a large leather-bound book and placing it on the desk with a deep thunk. He opened it and pulled out a pen, sliding both over to me. …show more content…
I signed the guestbook and handed him the money to cover the room. “The front door gets locked at 10:30, but I can give you a copy of the key for an extra $20 deposit. You can come and go as you please, but lock the door when you do. I don’t need any of those vandals coming in and ransacking the place.” I nodded, sliding a twenty dollar bill across the counter and accepting the key that he handed me. The room key looked like something out of a vintage black and white film, with the number 212 engraved on it. I smiled, said thank you, and then began the trek up the stairs with my two