Room Key

Damn, I thought, where the hell did my room key go? I always kept it in my front pocket but now, curiously, it was missing.

I walked down the long dim corridor of the hotel and wondered about where it could have gone. Did I take it out with my billfold when I got a drink at the bar? I couldn’t remember.

I continued to search my pockets in vain as I arrived outside my hotel room. The door was open just a crack, letting a long sliver of light peek out onto the wall opposite.

Great, and I didn’t close the door all the way behind me either. I pushed it open, expecting to find my room ransacked, or a knife-wielding serial killer waiting for me on the other side. There was nothing of course, just the flutter of tacky floral drapes above the air conditioner.

I scoured the room for the key to no avail. I stepped in front of the nightstand between the two Queens, picked the handset off the receiver and pushed the button for the hotel bar, the one with a little martini pictogram next to it.

“Hello, I seemed to have misplaced my room key, did I happen to leave it there? No? I was just there.” Strange, I thought, I normally never misplace things and always remember to close the door behind me. I was having an off day. “Okay, thank you, I’ll do that. Goodbye then.”

As I set the receiver back into place I felt cold bony fingers slowly encircle my ankle, and looked down to see an arm reaching out from under the bed.

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