The paintings hung upside down, the desk chair had been placed on top of the side table, the dresser drawers were all open, and the bed sat unmade. I stood for a moment, bewildered, grabbed in my back pocket and pulled out my and wallet and room key.
“Who was in here? How did they get in? What do they want with me?” Questions race across my brain, each remaining answerless. I scoured around my room to see what they had stolen, or what they might have been looking for, but nothing was missing. All of my stuff was still neatly pack away in my suitcase, the way I had left it, so why then would someone break into my room and rearrange all of the furniture? I figured it best to inform the front desk of the intrusion, and if necessary the police.
“Hello, sir? Sir? Sir! Excuse me?” It was the strange concierge, this time ignoring me. It wasn’t until I went over to him and turned him away from organizing room keys, that he responded.
“Hello. How can I help you?” he monotonously inquired, as if I had hadn’t been screaming for his attention.
“There’s been a break in. I walked into my room and all the furniture was moved around, and in an odd way at that. Now please don’t freak out,” I said to his unchanging face, “nothing was stolen. I’d like to know, though, who has keys to every room? And doesn’t housekeeping come in the morning?”
“Yes,” he replied, then returned to his work.
Well, I thought, I’ll figure it out myself. I sauntered back up the stairs, but stopped about halfway up. There was a limp. I heard a limp. Thump, thud. There it was again. Sprinting up the stairs, I continued to listen, but the noise fell far behind me. I reached the top of the stairs and found the children I’d seen yesterday.
“Hey kids. Where’s your mom?”
“She’s sleeping,” one responded.
“The man said we should let her rest, that she might not be up for a while,” answered the other.
Check back on the web weekly for a new installment!