The floor that does not exist

A fictional hotel story written for this project. It does not report real people, places or events.

The elevator buttons stopped at twelve. At three in the morning, a red 13 appeared on the blank metal plate below them. Until then, I had thought the clerk’s warning was a joke: ‘Do not leave your room before morning.’

The doors opened onto a corridor with thirteen rooms. A pair of shoes stood outside each door. Every pair was identical to the shoes I was wearing. Outside the last room, there was only one shoe.

I pressed the close button. Nothing happened. An announcement came from the ceiling: ‘Please remove your other shoe, guest.’ I looked down. My right shoe was gone.

I ran down the stairs in my socks. Twelve floors later, I opened the fire door. There were now two shoes outside the last room. My own voice came from inside: ‘You’re late.’