The air the next day is humid and his baggy shorts stick to his legs. He can see the heat waves in the air and cicadas' hum could lull him to sleep. He thinks about how he didn't hear things like that in the city, with all its hustle and bustle. The wind whipping the trees around creates an echo through the town and makes it seem even more isolated than before.
The first thing he notices is the lack of younger people out on the streets. Old ladies carry paper bags filled with vegetables and fruit and a few labor workers rest in the shade between buildings. They all give him strange looks when he passes, ranging from what appears to be glares to curious glances. He nods at a man selling fruit buzzing with flies and scurries past. The sun nips cruelly at his pale skin, he is already imagining the flaky redness on his cheeks and shoulders.
He gladly steps foot back into the shelter of the musty lobby of the motel. Stale coffee from the morning sits out on the bar, the old woman is not at her desk. It's quiet, like all movement from every room around him has ceased and he's the only one moving about the halls now. The dark brown carpet that had most likely been a toffee or beige once crunches below his sneakers. The swish of fabric is almost deafening in the static silence. In the next moment, he hears a door swing shut, the whistle of wind escaping into the dim hall sounds behind him. A bit startled, he turns his body to face the opposite way he had been walking. He hadn't noticed that there was a door there. A few sun-dried leaves litter the mat in front of the door, signalling that someone had in fact opened it.
Something in the back of his head tells him to turn around and keep walking to his room, but the curiosity he felt when he spoke to the boy earlier came to him again. He took a quick glance around him, before deciding to follow the sound and maybe peer out the door. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to see. For all he knew, there was nothing out behind the motel besides an empty lot with cracked asphalt and woods. There was really no reason for the staff, let alone a visitor to be back there.
He ignored the queasy feeling, blaming it on the pastries from the morning. The hall seemed twice as long in this quiet state, every drag of his feet against the flooring was louder than the last. His heart sped up a little before settling at an anxious pace. He reached out for the metal push bar, it's spring creaked generously, the rust on the bottom of it flaked off onto his palms and made them itchy. The door was painted the same bland neutral color as the rest of the interior, but more oxidized patches seemed to drip and ooze from the border that fit against the frame. The door was slightly ajar, light peaking through and the smell of grasses drying up in the sun spilled in along with it. He pushed harder, it seemed the door was determined to remain shut.
Once there was enough space for his upper torso, he stuck his head out and squinted as he was assaulted by the sun. He looked around the area, it was as bare as he expected. He breathed out a heavy sigh, his chest releasing the tension finally and he sagged against the frame. It was still, just like the motel. There was no wind, no sound, save for the occasional chirp of an insect.
He could feel the beginnings of a chill or shudder spark at the base of his spine. He'd never known nature to be so quiet. He wasn't stupid, his gut feeling was more often than not correct. So why wasn't it telling him to tuck himself back inside immediately? Where was the alarm at the unusual sensation in the air?
A gale kicked up suddenly, tossing fragments of shredded, dried greenery into the air in front of him. He recoiled, covering his face with his arms to avoid something getting in his eyes. He allowed himself a peek between the gap in his forearms, and what he saw had him scrambling back behind the door, faster than he'd ever moved before.
For good reason, though.
It's not everyday you see the figure of a man created spontaneously out of lawn clippings.
_____
unedited
low-key excited to write this, but i'm scared i'll ruin it?
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Legend 》 YOONSEOK
Fiksi Penggemar"You know what they say about this place, don't you?"
