“Loneliness is a long, unbearable pain….There was never a place for me in the scheme of things….I had become a living fantasy on a theme in dark, endless dirges….I made another world, and real men would enter it and they would never really get hurt at all in the vivid, unreal laws of the dream. I caused dreams which caused death. This is my crime.”
Three months later.***
Keenan tosses and turns on the large, but awfully lonely bed and after three hours of trying to convince himself why he needs to sleep, he pulls himself up and reaching for my his phone on the lampstand beside his bed he picks it and dials the motel Christel's line.
He waits a moment and in less than a three seconds later the call is picked and a feminine voice comes through at the end of the line after the first ring. "Hello Christel motel customer service line, always open for services, how may I help you?" The polite voice asks.
He clears up his suddenly choked up throat to ask, "Hello, I wanted to ask if room 43 is still being occupied?"