Cottage cheese. That's what this hotel ceiling looked like so I started to make designs in it. A sheep in the corner, a dragon by the window, and--

Crap. Was I beginning to lose my mind? Cabin fever had set in and I was desperate. I thought of turning on the television but decided that would only make me more depressed. All of those daytime commercials pondering to motorcycle accident victims and unemployed people who could learn to repair VCR's in the privacy of their own homes. Yuck.



Heck, I even tried calling a Psychic 976 hotline but the hotel wouldn't connect the call since there was no credit card deposit. So I thought of applying for a credit card over the phone but remembered with my credit history, a yes was highly unlikely. In fact, it was an impossibility.



I called Ned at the office. No answer. I called him at home. Machine.



So the four walls, the bolted paintings to the wall, and the Gideon Bible-- which was missing a few pages-- were all I had.



I heard the maid wheeling her cart down the hallway outside, blabbing in Spanish. She offered to clean my room earlier but I told her no. I didn't know her. After all, she could plant something, tell someone something about me, or...



Was I being paranoid? No, I was being smart. Careful.



I could hear the maid keep talking to someone when suddenly, without warning, a loud thud and then silence.



Followed by footsteps. Moving closer.



And then silence.



Someone was outside my door.



I leaned over and looked beneath the door crack. I could see shadows in the hallway, but I wasn't sure if they were a person or-



And then the shadows moved by my door. A figure. A person.



Just outside my door.



My heart suddenly raced, pounding in my head like an anvil. I searched the room for some kind of weapon, picking up the TV remote. I dropped it onto the bed, realizing I was panicking. Was it Friday? Gannon? Here to take me out, once and for all?



A KNOCK on the door.



"Who is it?"



Silence.



I stepped towards the door, perspiration now covering my forehead. I glanced beneath the door and realized the person was no longer there.



"Hello?" I asked.



My hand cupped the doorknob and I threw open the door, staring down the hallway.



On one end of the corridor was the maid and her cart. She banged her vacuum cleaner against the floor with a THUD, trying to open it. Looking the other direction, I saw a Man quickly turn the corner.



In my best broken Spanish, I asked the Maid who was knocking on my door.



"No se'" she responded. "Que man?" Either she was lying or she was too busy trying to fix her vacuum cleaner to have even noticed.