A wicked stench of rotting food induced a feeling of nausea. The thick odor permeated about the dark kitchen, seeming to originate from an industrial sized refrigeration unit neighbored by a fryer full with a glutinous mass of putrid oil. The top of which was glazed with a thin scum composed of dead insect bodies and larva trapped within the gelatinous goo. I could feel my stomach convulse as the fetid aroma slowly filtered through the cloth neck of my shirt which I had stretched over my nose and mouth. I wanted to vomit, but skipping breakfast to explore early turned out to be a wise decision as there was simply nothing left inside me for which to upchuck across the floor. Taking in breaths through my mouth to avoid dry heaving, I could begin to taste the rotting bacteria in the air which had a bit of a sour tang; disgusting for sure, but a bit more agreeable than the alternative smell. I only spent a matter of just a few minutes inside the kitchen, but that was long enough to forever engrave an impression. Recounting these words alone still ushers back a taste of the repressed memories.

With time to kill I decided to rest in a corner far away from the fragrant horrors of the kitchen and let my spinning mind calm to a stop from its noxious induced daze. The sound of mice crawling about the hollow hotel walls kept me from descending into sleep, as I awaited a welcomed greeting from the morning sun. Soon, golden rays of light cast beautiful shadows down the vacant hallways, seeming to electrify the otherwise emotionless pastel pink and green painted rooms. I could hear the town outside awaken as the noise of automobile traffic just outside muted the aching and creaking voices associated with a building dating back to the early 1800's. The rumbling of a large diesel truck idling sent vibrations through the tired wooden floor boards of the hotel. The entire building seemed to adjust to the ever changing orchestra of movement and sounds emanating about the busy street outside. The liveliness of the city filled the empty hotel, giving the hollowed halls a faux sense of occupancy. It was as if the walls themselves were speaking out. But perhaps it all existed only in my mind, for the supposed legends which haunt the hotel are only food for thought.