Hyde Road - Stay at the motel
From Create Your Own Story
With the snow coming down thickly, it seems to be quite a bit colder than when you arrived. The wind blowing strongly in your face, your scarf the only thing stopping your hair from becoming a tangled mess. You make a quick dash toward your car, it's not far but standing at your front door you start fumbling around in your bag looking for your keys. The icy weather making you shiver as you finally find them buried at the bottom, caught up in some tissues.
You open the door and ungracefully leap into your car shutting the door behind you. It doesn't take long for you to have the engine on and you turn the heater up to full. The radio comes on, playing a pop song you don't recognize. In the glove compartment you have a pair of tan leather gloves which you pull out and put on, trying to get yourself comfortable. The windscreen is covered in a layer of snow and as the hot air blows you can see the flakes starting to melt on the other side of the glass, turning on your wipers clears it all away.
The motel is not too far away, you stopped in at the petrol station next to it, that you suspect is all owned by the same sleazy character, as you came into town. You sigh, thinking about it, it is not your idea of a pleasant way to spend your evening, wrapped up watching some lousy television shows in a dated manky room. It will save you some money though and you need to leave early in the morning anyway, it's still a bit of a drive through to the city and you have the interview tomorrow so you will want to get an early start. This is probably the best idea you convince yourself. You rub your hands on the steering wheel, the car is starting to warm up nicely, as you reverse into the street and head back the way you came.
Two streets down and you see the sign post pointing to Hyde Road Pass, you turn the corner. Just up ahead you see the well lit sign of a petrol station clearly through the falling snow. Just past that is the sign for a run down motel, the last building on the edge of the town. The sun is setting below the the heavy clouds, gold, orange and pink streaks, painted with dark dappled grey areas, the last rays glistening off the falling flakes. The street lamps only continuing a little beyond the motel.
You pull into the driveway, the sound of the gravel under your tyres as you pull into an available parking spot in front of the reception area. There is a man standing under the awning smoking a cigarette, he watches you through your windscreen as you turn off the engine. It's creepy, his long, dark hair pulled back tightly into a pony tail, and a thick bushy mustache, he has narrow eyes that are glaring unabashedly into your car. He is wearing a black leather jacket and faded black jeans.
This is exactly why you had your reservations about this place. You reach for your bag next to you. Well either you risk this place or you risk the pass?
