Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual
Chapter 80
A thin whisper, as though about to break.
There was a sound lingering at his ear.
A formless resonance, a directionless sound. A melody like a ghost playing an abandoned piano caressed the outer rim of his ear, toying with it.
"...sanctus... sanctus... sanctum... non est...."
Neither too fast, nor too slow.
"noli tangere... noli... noli... no...."
Sounds always reached his ears. Spoken by no one, yet unmistakably voiced by someone's throat—such sounds.
Perhaps a hymn that once praised God.
"in luce, non remanet...."
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