Byron's gold lame pants sparkled as the sun set outside the large window. He cleared his throat and looked at his agent. "Morty, who's even heard of the Wakayama Beach Hotel? What about Vegas, AC, Saint Pete, for cryin' out loud? You booked me way over here in Japan and for what?"Morty shrugged and the shoulder pads in his leisure suit flapped against his ears. "Look, I just put your name out there and sign with the highest bidder.""Who contacted you? C'mon, Morty, quit pulling my leg." Bryon reached for his faux fur overcoat. "This is a joke, right? We're really booked in Tokyo, right?"The sun was almost gone, having sunk quickly as the two men chatted. The silence, beyond their conversation, should have been a warning, but neither of them noticed as the lights came up behind the bar and a ghostly figure started mixing drinks.Morty turned and spoke to the bartender, ignoring his nearly translucent pallor. "Listen, bud -- can you tell my friend here about your crowd?"The bartender smiled. "No worries, Mr. Byron -- the crowd has been dying to see you."
I offer these 188 words for this week's SCPP and today's #NanoPoblano post as well. There's something worse about abandoned clean and neat places than decrepit ones. Look at this place. That table looks ready for a game of poker or something. You've got to see the other images, including the almost alive cactuses and the game room that is awaiting the drop of the next coin. Click the photo above to visit the prompt, where you will find a link to the other photos from the Wakayama Hotel. Enjoy!