SUBMIT YOUR STORY OF WANDERING THE HALLWAYS

Have you ever had a hotel dream? Wandering through the spiraling and unknowable corridors of the dreamscape we continue to return to? Tell your story or weave a creation.
If you wish to submit your story as a recording or video, send to theearthhotel@gmail.com

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#1 - From the Basement of the 3rd Floor of The Earth Hotel

Received August 15, yr73

To The Occupants of The Earth Hotel,

2 hrs private

One night, May 23rd. His phone at his side when I entered the room. The least I could do was ask about the certain awkwardness of his position. A verbal response would have given me some leverage. Whatever it was, it was. The most I will say is that the room was about the same as any other room except the only door was the one I was standing in. The phone was still at his side.

From The Basement of the Third Floor of The Earth Hotel

Author Unknown

#2 - From the Desk of the Operator, Nightwatch

#2 - 9/15/73

From the Desk of the Operator, Nightwatch-- year 73, September 14.

The intercom atop the marble alerted me to a situation in an obscure sector of the Hotel currently uncharted and hitherto unknown to the staff. I answered and captured only a fragment to record and transcribed as best I could.

+++

[with buzzing and interference of message, sound of phone being handled]

ONE
Relax! STOP! Fucking relax! ...

[noise, distortion]

ONE
You can go to hell if you want to do that!

OTHER
[beat, muffled grumbling]

[high, metallic screeching in distance, interference]

ONE
And what did you decide to do? You brought that in here yourself, your stupid smile did this, and you can just pull it out and move it?!

[much chaotic shuffling. Silence.]

OTHER
We didn’t learn... at fuckin college, man... Ridiculous shit, we trusted a cuckoo. ... Privileged assholes association.

ONE
That doesn’t matter now, dude. Maybe it's not important now... I can’t babysit you in this box anymore. You made your own damn bed. I’m going upstairs.

OTHER
If you can FUCKING find it!!!

[door slams, chaotic swell of noise]

[static, phone disconnects]

+++
After the call ended I notified Collections and we searched a few of the nearest accessible staircases.
Walked up four or five different directions and spread out amongst ourselves.
Nothing through the walls, all door frames encountered were intact and lighting is holding up okay.
We figured this was related somehow with the new talk of recording phone calls in house.
I asked Tech if they had picked up the recorders we had left on 447-F and none were recovered.
Our best option, according to inner discourse with MD, is to collect smaller exchanges and distribute more regularly.

The task of cutting up responsibilities is nigh, I suppose. No man is a desk, or a sofa.
Workplace casualties are expected, but nothing permanent.
The letter that came on the 15th makes a bit more sense in context, but we haven’t seen inhabitants in several months.
We hear and see the evidence of people moving through, but actual interaction has been desolate.

For the record, JC, 9-14-73.

#3 - "Rabbits That Live Here" - Submission C-1

Submission recieved via telegram 9-15-73

“I was running through the halls, a crossing network pattern, with two friends,
in a combative flee from an organized shady business group.

We ran, up a couple or a few floors, in a column, straight up.
I found a room with a chaise lounge and a sky-blue ceiling,
and laid down, (deliberately, but without a plan).

Then I was walking through an expansive land zone,
into a field of tall, brilliantly golden grass, the walls dim and distant.
One friend had been behind me, and I turned to tell them:
“there are rabbits that live here”
and my friend was no longer there.

Now I had a plan.
Again, knowingly,
I laid down in the grass.
I slowed my breathing, and left my eyes just barely cracked to
gaze through fuzzy lashes.”