The Man The Door and The Corridor

It rains, It pours, falling like cats and dogs.

It is late in the night, dark and cold.

A flash of thunder heightens the sky.

The lobby patiently waited. Its bulbs shine golden like a precious metal.

The door swings open with enthusiasm.

The Man dressed in black, with shoes freshly shined knocked on the floor with every step

The room delighted to receive The Man, glowed lively.

The Man approaching the counter, his long trench coat gently swaying.

Dinging the bell, the front Clerk appeared, bearing a well-groomed look.

The Man requested a room, and after a small bicker, he settled.

A simple snap from the Clerk produced a Bellboy, slightly slender, slightly small.

He eagerly picked up the trunk and placed it on the luggage trolley.

His white silky gloves act as a barrier between the handles.

The wheels sing an unmusical melody as it is pushed to the elevator.

The elevator produces a soft hum as it lifts.

With a dinging sound, the door opened.

A long corridor; in its bowel filled with radiant fixtures, with multiple doors, each numbered.

Bellboy retains an overly friendly grin.

The trolley happily continues singing until they reach the one.

The door was simple with a plaque “407”.

Bellboy opened to reveal a comfy suite.

The Man took a gander; everything was to his liking.

Turning around he saw the Bellboy a slight bow, with his hand outstretched.

His silky white palm begging for a reward.

The Man reached into his trench coat; placing two silvers in the untainted palm.

A delighted Bellboy gently closed the door, leaving the guests to his slumber.

The Man cares not to unpack much, instead grabbing a quick bath.

The Man emerges in sleep attire, his hair still sodden.

Dimming the lights, he kept one at a desk.

Drawn to the light he sits with a pen and paper.

In the quiet and somber room, his pen scribbles a letter to his beloved.

Oh, how he longs for her to be by his bedside, to caress and cherish him.

The Man stops quickly turns and glares at the faintly lit door, an eerie feeling washed over him.

He shut the inkwell; It was time for his dormancy.

The Man crawled into bed, pulling the comforter over himself.

His eyes feel heavy, yet he can't sleep.

A slight tussle jolts the man awake.

He got up and approached the door; peering through the peephole he saw only the lit corridor.

The Man disregarded it and went back to his slumber.

His eyes begged for relief, yet his body refused to settle.

After a short while his ears perk to what sounds like a groan.

The Man once again got out of the comfort of his bed.

Once more he reached the door; through the looking glass, he saw an empty corridor.

The Man frustrated; threw himself onto the bed. He drowned it out, forcing himself to rest.

His eyelid felt like a ton. The door handle jiggled, but he ignored it.

He grabbed the nearby pillow and placed it over his head.

Soon he began to drift, his eyes finally started to feel salvation.

A loud pounding at the door shocked his soul causing it to shrivel in fear.

The Man got up his eyes widened, his body cold; he tiptoed over to the door.

Peering once more he saw a peaceful corridor.

The Man stumbled backward, his eyes bulging. He curled into the corner of the room.

He trembled in the dark; the man had lost a grip on reality.

Peaking through his hand he can see the silhouette of the room; eventually, it fades to black.

A loud knock at the door rattled The Man; his eyes widened once more.

The room now has the morning tint.

A gentle familiar voice was heard.

The Man ran to the door and through the hole, he glanced again.

It was the front clerk well-groomed as ever.

He opened the door.

“I hoped you slept well, for now, your stay has concluded."