A hint of je ne sais quoi

In Lewisville, there is a place called The Pines Motel. It is on the corner of Interstate 35 and Business 121 and subtle enough that I lived in Lewisville for about four years before I even noticed the place.

Merely speculating, I imagine at least one murder has taken place there, and while they have no website to poke around, I did find a delightful tidbit in an online Makerspace:


"... The Pine Motel was initially a really nice motor lodge and had one of the first swimming pools in Denton County. Rumors are that there are some bodies at the bottom of the pool which is now filled in.

During the Texas International Pop Festival in 1969, the pines hosted some of the headliner bands, supposedly Janice Joplin, Santana, Grand Funk Railroad filled the motel.

By the time I moved to Lewisville in 1974, it was a wreck and a pretty low grade place, not even making 1 star.

The City of Lewisville has constantly looked for ways to improve the look of the place. Since they have never remodeled the motel everything is still grandfathered. The Pines does just enough maintenance to avoid being condemned..."


There is a (very small) part of me that wants to check into the place, but I'm not a method writer and have a healthy value for a life free of the terror that would accompany a stay in such a place, however short-lived (ahaha) it might be. 

Without assuming negatively about the owners, I like to picture the possible type of people who might run the place. What if they were professional cleaners who provide cheap accommodations - on the corner of two highways, no less! - where hitmen can stay comfortably (as long as a password is provided) to clean their weapons, lay low until the heat dies down, etc. And other visitors are encouraged not to stay so that privacy is assured to their true clientele!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Partners in Magic

I want to write something with a magic system that requires cooperation. Could be that it's in couples, but I feel like that would too strongly promote the idea of hetero-normative-monogamy, so I was thinking about trios to start. Would they be three parts of a whole? A battery, a channel, a focus perhaps? Do the groups come in different sizes? If they did, it argues that the battery is in all of them and some kind of connection is needed to make the magic in that case. Unless different batteries access different types of magic. A weather mage, elementalist, telekinetic, pyrokinetic, animal communicator, etc. That, too, argues that they wouldn't be so much destined for one another, you know? If they could switch out, maybe? Hmph. I would then argue that each battery needs a channel if that's the route we're going... I don't know. I can't decide! Too many choices and a lot of them lead to lots of different problems!! UGH. Anyway, here's a story I'm writin
Read more

And now for something completely different...

Crisp air stung my cheeks and tousled my hair. I saw others smiling as they bounced through the park, coats and mittens and boots shielding them from a playful chill, but to me it felt like a bully's torments. I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder every few steps despite the daylight and crowds and I hated even the momentary fog that blew from my mouth, corrupting my vision.  I stopped at the bush where the paramedics had found me all those years ago. The blood had long since soaked into the earth; not that there had been much of it. I'd been told over and over how lucky I was that the night was so cold, that I'd had the instinct to keep pressure on my wound. Instinct. Lucky. I took a hand out of my pocket and traced a finger down the long scar from just below my ear to the middle of my esophagus. It was thin, but drew stares. My voice had mostly healed; of course I could still hear the difference. I hated the winter. It reminded me of all I'd lost despite my
Read more

The Broken Hiatus

In the last two days, two friends have spoken to me about this story. Thank you. Thank you. Seriously. We were slow. I could feel the tension in Prevot like the threat of rain and did my best to remember her hasty teachings from the day before, but as lost as I was in the forested areas of the mainland, I was infinitely more useless in this merciless hybrid of land and water. Only a few hours into our travel, I deeply believed I would never be comfortably dry again in my life. I could barely remember the hot, sunny days of my youth when all of the students would run to the ocean’s edge, shedding our clothing as we ran, and plunge into frigid waves only to emerge shivering and gleefully throw ourselves into the sand to bake like fresh an’andi . Tiago did an admirable job for his age, holding his silence and obeying all directions without hesitation. I could hear Ele’s low but steady stream of curses behind us and Vana’s patient encouragement. Captain Dumas, too, kept her peace, but I
Read more