Seeking Refuge in an Inn
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A hotel sounds like a good plan! You had the money, and you were sure a dinky, dismal little town like this would have at least one room this time of year. Squinting through the rain, you made out a sign for The Lion’s Head Inn.
So you scampetered across the street and ducked in the front door, only to be met with a rather…strange scene. “What about ‘a room with a fire’ Is so…difficult to accommodate?” The man with his collar pulled up to his ears was irritated, tightly grasping his passport in a gloved hand while the other clutched the handle to a large suitcase.
You felt as if every single speculative eye was on this one man- I mean, you were only seeing the back of the guy’s head, but he seemed to be just another weather-battered traveler like yourself!
The reaction of the wrinkled woman who owned the inn mirrored those of the leering crowd lining the walls of the front room. Pointing a crooked finger, she proclaimed, “Don't you play me for a fool! I know full well what you’ve been doing, and I will not permit ye’ one more hour under my roof, do you hear?”
The stranger took a step back, an inch shy of bumping into you. When he glanced down to murmur a quiet apology, you got a look at the man’s face.
Well, what would’ve been his face, had it not been covered in layers of white bandages, completely obscuring his features. An errie sight, sure, but you found it more somber than anything. The initial, sympathy panging thought was concern for if he’d been in some sort of accident.
While you felt a pang of anger at the injustice you were bearing witness to, you didn’t want to stir the pot too excessively when you only just rolled into town.
What do you Do?
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