Business Hotel | Grand Seasons

Tonight, she did her ritual. She ordered the same room service: miso soup, no rice. She ate it at the desk, not the table. Then she opened the top drawer of the nightstand. Inside, beneath the Gideon's Bible and the guest directory, was a small, worn photograph of a house with a garden. Her old house. She touched the image, then closed the drawer.

She turned off the lights. The only illumination came from the "Do Not Disturb" sign, glowing a soft, bloody red. grand seasons business hotel

She ordered a celebratory champagne from the automated mini-bar. As she sipped it, looking at the neon grid of the city below, she called her mother. Tonight, she did her ritual

"Why?" a new guest once asked.

"It reminds you not to get comfortable," the manager had said. Then she opened the top drawer of the nightstand