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Song: Hotel Can’taffordmore
On a dark dual carriageway, cool wind in my hair, Warm smell – sugar beet dust – rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, I saw a flickering light; I’d worked my hours to the max that day, I had to stop for the night. There she stood in reception, like she’d…
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Carol Carman’s Writing Club Prompt: H is for Hotel
Plenty of scope for stories and poems here. First of all, the hotel itself. How big is it? Is it a magnificent, expensive place, or is it quiet and cosy, or run-down and in need of some TLC? How many rooms? The more rooms, the more stories that take place in those rooms. Who’s staying…