KLOKWERK

I then took a few steps backwards in order to determine if anybody was home. There was a flickering yellow light in the opened 2nd floor window above the entrance. I then swiveled my head to the left, then right to see if there were any other signs of life in this dismal berg. None of the houses adjacent to the hotel showed any signs of life. But I did spot what appeared to be the only source of light in this whole Goddamned town (aside from the full moon, the inadequate porch light and the 2nd story window): A single street lamp that flickered a yellow glow at least two blocks away.

Another gaslight?

I quickly spun around and hurried to the end of the path and looked up and down the street. None of the houses on the other side, or as far I could see, had any lights on. I didn’t know what time it was, so it was either very late and everyone had hit the sack for the night or the whole town was deserted. I was hoping for the former of the two possibilities. But there was one little thing that leaned towards the latter: No cars! Not one. Not even a beat up old pick-up truck.

Now. With the presence of gaslights and the absence of motorized vehicles, not only was I wondering where I’ve ended up, but when!

Time Travel?

Time travel. What the fuck was I thinking. It’s wonderful fodder for storytellers such as H. G. Wells and Irwin Allen, but that’s all it was. Time travel. Geez.

Just as I thought things couldn’t get any weirder, it dawned on me that I didn’t know who I was? I couldn’t even remember what I looked like. I started to frantically pat down the jeans and denim jacket (that I just realized I was wearing) for a wallet or some sort of clue as to my identity, but only came up with a business card I plucked from the left breast pocket of the jacket. It read: Dr. Justidian Marz. Personal Advisor. The Gang Busted Inn. 13 Nugatory Way, Suite 2-C. I stared at the card for I don’t know how long trying to figure out if I was this Dr. Marz or was he the reason I was here?

My legs and feet suddenly alerted me to their need for rest. They were killing me. I felt as if I had been walking forever. And my crinkled nose reminded me that I also needed a nice, hot shower; my teeth felt like I had pancake mix on them and my stomach began to make those hollow go-ing go-ing sounds of hunger.

"Ah shit," I moaned. I was simply too tired, thirsty and hungry for any of this Stephen King shit! But still and all, I had to find out what was going on and my only clue was in The House of the Seven Gables here.

Probably in the room with the flickering light on the second floor.

Behind the door with 2-C tacked to its face.

I slipped the card back into my pocket and began walking up the path while trying to remember something, anything that’d shed some light on this whole spooky situation. Maybe I could at least see what I looked like. I thought maybe there’d be a mirror in the old house, but thought better of the idea.