#ches writes about the hotel on the lake. ches might have Standing Issues about the hotel on the lake

[partyinthemysterymachine]

THERE WAS A HOTEL ON THE LAKE

(raw wip; so it includes the disorganized and fragmented fun that goes along with first draft writing)

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There was a hotel that stood by the lake. It’s stood there for ages, this hotel; perhaps a century or two, if the books were right. It was a proud old thing: beautiful, historical — a masterpiece of design; a quaint taste of luxury. 

It was a famous, and beloved monument of the small town that’d built it; and visitors enjoyed it, too. 

It was the community’s very pride and joy. 

There’d been many a wedding there: gorgeous, full-fledged, no-expenses-spared affairs alike a fairytale dream. (Brides loved to pose with the spinning princesses music box the lobby.) 

sometimes booked alongside unions high in debt. There’d also been birthdays; the extremely rare and odd bar-mitzvah; retirement parties; political fundraising galas; and common junctions of many more. Families and individuals hailing from all wage brackets and states have stayed there, occupied its rooms for a night (or a dozen in a row), eaten at its restaurant and visited its cafe, mingling amongst the local. 

The out-of-towners rarely blended in, and we’re always easy to spot. This didn’t really matter on any large scale: it was a tourist town, after all. Livelihoods depended on visitors; and so long as the temporary citizens minded the manners, the authentic ones didn’t mind them. (Residents sometimes liked to make a game of clocking the tourists too, just to pass the time.) It was a joint effort among all. Civil, mostly peaceful: a fine trade. 

(At least, it was for awhile.)

But memories had been made in that town, and many more, if not nearly equally tying the count, were made in that hotel. Friends have been made there; acquaintances too; business solidified; pictures taken, salutations said, and adieus bid. Love had been made in its rooms - and children, too. (More than a handful of ‘em, in fact.) Yet as we all unfortunately know, not all memories could be happy. For some, it was definitely a devastating place to recall; though for others, it was fondly remembered as the best time of their lives. 

But of course, these experiences were only expected out of a hotel’s bustling little ecosystem. Times good and bad weren’t its fault; it was just how the human carousel of life tended to operate. 

.. or was it?

Because mystery surrounded that hotel on the lake, and lots of it. The lake it overlooked, itself, was also full of mystery, too. (And more.) Some might say its grounds were haunted — but the locals preferred to brush that off. The place was old, and as oftentimes goes along with historical age, whispers of ghosts and outrageous stories of all kinds were bound to happen. How could it not? The town was said to be built on Native American burial grounds, after all. (A trip to the historical society could confirm that right away, too.)

Love and friendships have also been shattered in that hotel, almost in equal parts to their better occasions.