Lesson 7: Share Your Writing

by Nancy

Share your 10-minute writing for Lesson 7, and read what other writers have done.

<<


Comments for Lesson 7: Share Your Writing

Click here to add your own comments

Feb 14, 2011
 DIRTY WHITE CASTLE
by: Linda

Part 1

As the little cab courses its way down the faintly lit roads gloom mixed with the battle against the biggest kind of mosquitoes she had ever seen. It was her first time in India and it’s so sad she got there at midnight and the small open cab [for the low range earner] was what she could afford with her meager means. Its driver wore a brown khaki shirt and a wrapper around his waist. He had a long unkempt beard and a fresh ugly tattoo dotted on his fore head. He smelt like sweat mixed with spices; in fact, the whole street smelt of spices.
It felt unsafe to be so exposed on an unfamiliar road and at such a time but she took the risk anyway anxious to get into the safety of a cozy hotel room and rest before dawn. Back home she had checked a couple of Indian hotels posted in the net; they all looked nice and the one she had chosen also looked nice and promising comfort with lesser charge than the others; not that it was quite cheap if compared with other, but as a student on research with little resources you go for the cost effective.
After about over one hour of driving the cab eventually entered streets. In one street people were engaged in a night festival throwing fireworks, dancing and laughing. Some other streets were not so crowdy but had a few restaurants lit, and from their windows, revealed some people seated or walking. There, the smell of spices intensified. And other streets were as quiet as a grave yard: scary. It eventually curved and drove through an open gate and stop at the threshold of a small dirty white castle.
It was quite the contrary of what she saw on the net. Stepping out of the cab she frowned at the building before her and asked the driver if it was really the address she gave him [showing him again the paper she had written the address]. The driver vehemently muttered incomprehensible words pointing and nodding at the same time. She could understand he was sure he had brought her to the right place, and the name of the hotel boldly written across the castle wall told she was in the right place.
Feb 14, 2011
 DIRTY WHITE CASTLE
by: Linda

Part 2

The cab left and she took her time to look longer at the hotel before proceeding inwards. She remembered it bore a semblance to the one on the net; only that the one on the net was newer, whiter and cleaner. As she made her way towards the door, a door man, as dark complexioned as the driver that brought her, came out of the hotel and warmly took her suitcase from her. ‘You’re welcome, madam’, he said with an accent. Her appreciation did not go past her open teeth when she responded ‘thank you’, swallowing some saliva with difficulty.
When she entered the hotel she saw men and women going about the lobby, most of them dressed in white. The men wore long gowns while the women wore long skirts below short-length blouses, and all tied their faces like Arabs only leaving their eyes bare. Their eyes were painted round with thick black pencils making them appear to be staring glaringly at you. The colour of their skin was quite white too in contrast to the door man’s and hers [she being an African]. And perhaps, it was her imagination, she believed they were floating in those gowns and skirts or she must be getting paranoid. Now, she could not only smell the strong odor of spices but could also taste it in her tongue and in the saliva she swallowed intermittently. She hated it, and the creeping feeling of the atmosphere as all seemed to be staring or stealing a look at her. They were ghostly.
Moving to the receptionist she forced a smile but the receptionist frowned. It was not as if she [the receptionist] wasn’t pleased to see her, she simply seemed not to be in the mood for pleasantries; and come to think of it, neither was she. She didn’t like what her chosen hotel turned out to be and she would leave first thing in the morning to look for another. Right now she needed to get into the protection of her room and wait, not rest, for daylight [because she was sure she could not sleep now even if she wanted to] and go and search for another less scary and yet still affordable hotel.
Feb 05, 2011
 WORK 7
by: Tarak Khanfir

Alicia had just arrived to the hotel she had reserved a room in a week ago. By arriving to the door, she felt afraid and unsecure. The architecture was so strange which is similar to ghosts houses in films. Walls were dark, dirty and malpainted. She entered to the hotel carefully looking at the right and the left. She felt more and more afraid. Big and strange spider nets were filling ann the walls. She heard different sounds of bats and different strange insects. By arriving to the door of her room, sounds of bats and other dangerous birds became nearer from her. A strange insect, long, green, having four wings fell on her. Alicia fainted for moments. After that, she got up and escaped from the hotel returning to her home.
WRITTEN BY :
TARAK KHANFIR
Jan 21, 2011
 Internet Hotel part 1
by: Brande

The moment Myra stepped into the Westland Hotel; she knew something was not quite right. She sat her suitcase down, and surveyed the room. The rug was badly worn; ashtrays on end tables overflowed with discarded cigarettes and gum wrappers. The chairs and the large sofa were badly stained and resembled furniture from some horror movie.
Picking up her suitcase, she walked to the registration desk and rang the bell. She noticed that the desk was covered with cigarette burns, spills and quite dusty. The area behind the registration desk was
in total darkness. She rang the bell again.
An unkempt man came out of the darkness, and walked up behind the desk. His hair was long and shaggy, and he looked as though he had not shaved for the past week. He was dressed in torn jeans, and a sweat stained t-shirt.
Myra watched as he picked up a pen, and noticed that his nails were very ragged and quite dirty.
“Name please?” at least he’s polite Myra thought.
“Myra Bronstone. I reserved a room from your internet site. “
He handed Myra the registration book for her to sign.
“Room 435” and then handed her the key.
She picked up her suitcase, walked to the elevator, and pushed the button. The doors opened, She stepped in and selected the fourth floor; the doors closed. The elevator shook and groaned, setting Myra’s nerves on edge, as it traveled to the fourth floor. Myra stepped out and found herself in a poorly lit hallway. As she walked towards her room, she heard screams and loud banging noises, leaving her hoping that the sounds were being emitted by a loud television.
Jan 21, 2011
 Internet Hotel part two
by: Brande

She walked up to 435, opened the door, and reached around for the light switch. She re-locked the door. She glanced about the room and realized that she had been duped. This was not the room displayed on the website. The carpet was faded and worn; curtains were mismatched, and the wall-paper water-stained and peeling. The only chair in the room wobbled when she sat in it.
Myra crossed the room, and pulled back the raggedy bedspread. She examined every seam and crevice for bed bugs, finding nothing. She then sat on the edge of the bed and removed her shoes; the mattress springs squeaked with every movement of her body. She reached over and turned on the lamp on the stand next to her bed.
“Great won’t get much sleep tonight”
Something drew Myra’s attention to the door. She watched as someone turned the door knob, trying to enter her room; however the door would not open. She grabbed the rickety chair, carrying it to the door, and placing the back under the knob. At least she would have some protection until morning.
She turned out the overhead light, walked back to the bed, climbed in pulling the covers around her and placed the door key next to her pillow. She would sleep in her clothes tonight, and use the key, if necessary, as a weapon if anyone entered her room. She laid there, half a wake and listened to the various eerie sounds around her.
When morning came, she rushed from the hotel, and headed for home. She promised herself that she would take a nice long nap later that afternoon.

Jan 11, 2011
 Lesson 7 KKK
by: J. Eve

Lesson 7 Part 1

KKK

“Koren Kayla Kramer you have mail” the computer’s message screen display read. Opening the e-mail Koren remarked “ok I’m going to New York for well deserved rest and relaxation, get away from this 9 to 5 hup-ho, no more orders from that fat baldheaded beady eyed, musky smelling boss of mine.

The message was regarding confirmation of her stay with the Empire Hotel. ‘Dears Ms. Kramer your reservation are confirmed for the Christmas week, with maximum yulidge we welcome you. Signed Gaston Means “No more playing around, I letting my hair down, little miss conservative is going buck wild.” Koren Kayla Kramer, blue eyed on the right side, green eyed on the left, long flowing auburn hair, a face that could stop any man from moving forward. Graced with a figure that would make a Hollywood scarlet die for, the real deal in the flesh, with all the bells and whistles in tow.

“I’m so tired of being little miss goody two shoes, for this week I’m living it up. I’m taking the clothing I would never wear here in butt-hole USA, going dancing, drinking till I’ve had my fill, and picking up men that don’t know anything about who I am.”

Koren’s family background was stern, father a Christian minister, mother the perfect preacher wife, and Koren very subdued as a child, very boring non adventurous life style. “No mummy not this time no more prim and proper little girl of yours I’m getting too old not to feel alive. The men stare at me all the time and I just cowl down and drop my head.

What is wrong with me? I should be able to crush any man below my feet, but no I become afraid and run.”

Jan 11, 2011
 Lesson 7 KKK
by: J. Eve

Lesson 7 Part 2

Koren has had very few relationships, always church related beau’s, a kiss here, a good squeeze now and then, but never ever intimate. Her father brow beat her so bad about sexuality that guilt abounds just to see a man’s nude picture “going all the way, I’m not backing down, and I’ll become a woman at last, Oh! What if it hurts, what if he gets rough, my god! Expose my self to an unknown man.”

Koren fears were just, all she did was stay in her small apartment two blocks from the family home, go to work as a executive secretary for the Lutheran social services, spend time with mom and dad, and go to all the church services and events. “My flight leaves early better get packing and to bed.”

The airport was small, not many people that want to fly in a four seater twin prop to New York, she could have driven but the fear of the super highways was just too much for her. All the signage, lane changing, up holding speeds limits, not like her Hicksville USA.

The pilot, a middle aged man still handsome and suave. “Hello there young lady, you look amazing.” Ok don’t look down stare him in the eyes. “Why thank you for noticing we women work hard to get you men to stare.” “mity fine, mity fine” as the pilot’s eyes budged forward. “Now be a good boy and load this luggage times a wasting, I’ve got important business in New York. The pilot moving faster than ever, smiling as if he had won the lottery. “Hey sweetie you going for a trip or moving, it’s a good thing no one else is aboard.”
The flight took three hours, and Koren used this time to rehearse building sexual tension with the pilot, you could say she had him in the palm of her hand. “KY 69 you’re cleared for landing approach runway” the tower controller voice said. “Roger that got a beautiful package aboard got to come in easy” the pilot’s face blushing with joy.

Her luggage was brought to the front of the terminal by the pilot, like a slave willing to do anything to please. “why wasn’t I doing this before? Always bowing down and clamming up, this was very interesting that book worked, making men into putty, well worth the money.”
Jan 11, 2011
 Lesson 7
by: J. Eve

KKK Part 3

A scruffy male stood with a sign that read KKK Empire Hotel. The man dressed in an out of dated tux with spats on his shoes, a cowboy buckle and a pink tie that read diamonds are a girl’s best friend, with a nude women’s side poised. Koren seeing this was outraged “sir is there a convention at the hotel?” “No, you fine looking mama, I’m waiting for this old bag Koren Kayla Kramer. “How do you know she is old?” “Gaston told me, go pick up the old doll.” “Well Mr. I’m that old doll” as she clinched her fist at him.

As they traveled towards the city Koren did not say a word to the driver, she didn’t even ask for his name. “Where exactly is the hotel” she said snippily. “Well it’s not up down, not downtown, more like off to the side of town.” “Your info say close to all. “ Yes it does if you go by how the crow flies.”

The arrival was a shock to Koren, we're not in Manhattan, “Yes, we are just to the side across the river.” “This is what I was led to believe Gaston lied to me.” “Our boy Gaston, you know he could sell a sheet to a ghost.”

Koren walking in felt like a time warp has just happened, the looks of the 1940’s were in place, clean but very old, where were the lavish lighting, the red carpeting, the modern elevators’, nothing but old. As she walked to the check in another scantly clad heavy made up woman, with eye shadowing beyond belief said, “Hey doll you working the crowd tonight?” A man standing in her path winked at her saying”I would sure like a taste of you”

The desk adorned by bullet proof glass gave her the final hammer on the head, as she fainted to the floor.

“Hey doll, come on snap out of it, are you alright?” as Koren came to she was blurred by the most attractive man she’d ever seen, like something out of an ancient time sharply dressed, stunning, his grooming impeccable with all the charms of Don Juan or a Casanova. “What happened?” Koren mumbled.

In the voice of a tenor sax, with a French accent “you just past out, should I call a doctor? I shall have you taken to your reserved room. I’m Gaston the proprietor.

Dec 16, 2010
 Ex 7
by: Nupur

Riya looked apprehensively around her as she entered Casa Italia. She stepped gingerly through the dirt on the steps, which made her cringe even in the dim lighting. “Should I ask for my room?” she debated with herself. “I’ve paid for it, after all. It didn’t look so shabby online,” she mused as she noted the peeling plaster on the walls. “There were only views of the inside rooms though…” she recalled. Riya’s glance shied away from the grinning, pan stained teeth of the hotel receptionist. On her second try, she managed to get the words out. “I’d booked a single room online,” she said haltingly, as she pushed her voucher forward. The clerk peered shortsightedly at the paper. “We are overbooked madam” he said after spitting his paan out. “But that’s not my concern, “ Ria spluttered. ‘What was the point of my booking online then?” The clerk shrugged his shoulders. He rubbed his left thumb against his right palm while looking at Riya meaningly. Riya narrowed her eyes. She sighed. “He knows I can’t look for another hotel at midnight.” She thought as she took out a banknote. She rolled it and out it in his callused palm. The clerk straightened up with sudden energy. “Bhola, “ he bellowed. “Take madam’s bags up to room 212.” Riya drew back unconsciously when she saw Bhola’s bulk. A scarred face, he unsmilingly took her two bags and motioned that she should follow him. Mentally chanting the Hanuman Chalisa, she slowly climbed the stairs. The room looked like the picture online, she noted as her shioulders sagged in relief. She nodded to Bhola, who stood there until she brought out another banknote and handed it to him. Only pausing to check that the locks worked, she dragged a chair in front of the door, fastened the window and lay on the bed to sink in a fitful sleep. Her fears seemed silly when she woke the next morning.
Nov 15, 2010
 The scary hotel
by: Molly

Judy is in the taxi on the way from the airport. She is feeling a little anxious but not really sure why.

The flight in was bumpy and the whole taxi ride (about 30 minutes)from the airport to the hotel was through a thunderstorm.

The taxi turns down off a main street into a pretty rough looking area. She gives the driver a tip and then runs into the hotel.

She gets inside and as she approaches check-in she notices its not superclean. This leads to the thougt that its so scary in that area that they can't find any cleaning people to stay after the sun does down to keep things tidy.

Judy has her own small business, so she had to book this place and as there was a small business conference in that town, she didn't have time to check around around and be picky.

So, moving on, she checks in, but gets an odd feeling about being where she is. Oh well, it is what it is. Its probably because the girl who checked her in told her to stay in her room once she gets there and keep the door locked and deadbolted.

As it turns out there is a small little bar on the first floor that serves food; along with drinks.

Judy is really hungry for some greasy bar food and a few cocktails. So she orders a big greasy hamburger and a few drinks.

She eats and drinks pretty quickly because she is anxious to get to her room and lock herself in for the night.

Judy gets to her room and locks up and washes her face and gets ready for bed. The last thing she remembers thinking right before falling asleep is this place won't be so scary in the daylight.


THE END


Oct 24, 2010
 the hotel
by: Christel

The lobby was dimly lit with no central light source but rather an assemblage of scattered lamps on tables and the counter. The overall effect was disheartening and created small pools of light but failed to draw the room into a coherent whole. The manager was a shadow behind the counter and as Clare approached he shifted the study lamp so that it slanted towards the side she stood on. She struggled to make him out. A balding head nestled between stooped shoulders and a smell of mothballs emanated from a large woolen trenchcoat. The choice of attire was a mystery to her as the night was humid and the lobby felt extra close.

She cleared her throat, “ I booked a room with you on friday. My name is Clare Sheppard.”

A low voice echoed in response, “Yes, yes, of course. Come with me. Just call me Klaus.”, and he beckoned for her to follow him into a short corridor. “Your room right at the back so that you won't be bothered by noise from the street.”

The corridor had no independent light source either and she had to rely on illumination from the room at the far end which his form in front of her obscured. There seemed to be a shortage of guests in that event as no sound came from any of the adjacent rooms. “Expecting anyone else tonight, Klaus?”

“Perhaps”, he muttered and stepped aside so she could enter her room, “Just ring if you need anything.”

Brushing past him the musty odour of his coat assailed her more strongly. She saw his face for the first time properly as she stepped past him. His skin was suprizingly smooth and plump like a stuffed sausage though his chin sprouted fine white hairs sporadically. His eyes were small hard points behind spectacles.

“Everything in order?” Clare turned to take in the room. A single bed, wooden vanity, a tiny en-suite bathroom, everything as advertised. Why did it all feel so unreal though? Could it be the absence of other guests? Maybe the inadequate lighting? It was as though the hotel and its manager were trying to hide their true nature. Sure enough when she turned Klaus had already moved out of the light into the hallway.

“Yes, thank you”, she said and impulsively checked her phone. Great, no reception.
Aug 30, 2010
 Surprise!
by: Robbie

Gosh I hate to disappoint N.Kotkin, but I am a woman, so it wasn't hard to tell it from a woman's p.o.v. Liked Angelo's build too.
Aug 28, 2010
 Angelo's Exercise 7
by: N Kotkin

This was a very good effort. You included lots of relevant details that continually built suspense until your surprise ending.

One thing - I couldn't really picture the spider web on the plate because plates are flat, horizontal surfaces and spider webs typically hang vertically or diagonally. I like that the plate was "used" though.
Aug 26, 2010
 Robbie's Exercise 7
by: Angelo

I like the imagery. The smell and the heat was realistic for me.
Aug 26, 2010
 Lesson 7 exercise
by: Angelo

She finally reached the town, it was cold and starting to snow, the windscreen wipers were now on, flip flop flip flop. Collette Abrams, a travel consult, had booked her accommodation on the ‘Settler’s Hut Motel’ website and she was looking forward to a hot shower after a long day’s drive. The dim street lighting cast an eerie shadow amongst its houses and civic buildings. The car’s fuel light was now on adding to Collette’s anxiety.
“Where in the hell is the motel?” She said loudly, peering through the snow covered windscreen, which made the wipers work even harder.
The car jerked and coughed. She saw the motel fifty metres away as the car coughed again. The car gave another surge, the accelerator flat to the floor, as it slowly rolled into the kerb in front of the motel.
Collette got out clutching an overnight bag and rushed through the small car park to the motel’s door. She shook the snow off herself and walked in. The room was a mess; cartons and furniture stacked in every available space. Collette made her way to the reception counter and found a middle aged woman staring into a computer screen and a cockroach raced up the wall. There were cobwebs on a used plate sitting at the end of the counter making her wince with horror. She felt her skin crawl and wished she could go somewhere else.
“Good evening, Collette Abrams, I have a booking for tonight sorry I’m late.” Collette said.
“When did you book?” The woman asked.
“I booked last night.”
“What’s your name again?”
“Collette Abrams.”
“Oh yeah here it is.” The woman stood up, reaching for the lonely key on the keyboard. Her dress looked dirty and Collette saw it torn in various places.
“Room nine, its upstairs last one down the corridor on the left. That’s fifty five dollars for the night, no breakfast. Fill in your details and sign here,” she said handing Collette a card and pen, “excuse the mess we’re renovating the place.” She said holding on to the key and waiting for payment.
Collette completed the card and paid cash for the room, taking the key quickly climbed up the stairs, clutching tightly onto her overnight bag. She walked down the narrow and creepy corridor; cobwebs were hanging from the walls and ceiling making her duck and cringe as she made her way to the room. She didn’t feel comfortable on hearing male voices and laughter coming from the other rooms she passed. The door to number seven opened and a man rushed out, a beer can in his hand pushing past her and forcing her to stand against the wall to let him pass. She now was in front of the door, knowing that she really had no choice but to stay here tonight. In her mind’s eye she saw a dirty and shabby room with spiders and cockroaches crawling over the bed. She slowly opened the door, her mouth dropped from the shock of what she saw. A terrible scene it wasn’t but a warm and comfortable room, very feminine and clean. It shocked her in a lovely way and looked forward to a restful sleep.
Aug 21, 2010
 Robbie's Lesson 7
by: N Kotkin

I enjoyed reading your lesson. I'm assuming you are a guy - you did a nice job showing a woman's point-of-view.

I especially liked the air conditioning and the car air freshener. I could really smell the urine stench and hear the noisy AC running to cover it up.

I thought her reasoning for staying at the icky motel was convincing.
Aug 21, 2010
 Unedited. Comment please.
by: Robbie

Check-in was quick and simple. The clerk didn't even ask for her license plate number. The other people waiting their turn probably appreciated the swiftness of service since there was no place in the lobby to sit. No rack of visitor information, no maps, nothing. As Chris left the lobby with her key card in hand, she passed two men who looked like migrant workers and a man who might be a truck driver. Outside the lobby there were several more men in long-sleeved work shirts and worn jeans sitting on the curb.

I wonder, she thought, are there any other women staying in this little motel tonight?

Chris drove to the end of the single row of rooms and found hers. When she let herself in, she was hit by the smell of urine warmed by the summer's heat. She actually had to step back and get her breath! She stood still on the sidewalk for a few moments trying to decide whether or not cut her losses and head on down the interstate. The thought of falling asleep at the wheel frightened her more than a stinky night's sleep, so she entered the room and immediately turned on the air conditioner. Thankfully, it worked. Sadly, it was noisy as all get-out. The thing sounded like it was dragging something across a chalkboard. But it blew cold fresh-smelling air. Chris went back to her car and pulled out her overnite case and the air fresher she kept in her car.

Click here to add your own comments

Return to Fiction Writers Salon main menu.
Show / Hide