It looked like smoke but it was the dust from rugs being “thwacked” to clean them.
The morning had started in an original fashion, the residents were all qualified “creators” and they managed to find something fresh to greet every day.
Being original was the ultimate sign of nobility. To repeat was to be a bottom rung tag-sailer (a local phrase for someone who clung to the efforts of others so as to be swept along without their own exertion).
A strange place, a weird state.
The travel agent must have been crazy or had an odd sense of humor to book us in here to stay at the Shifting Minds Hotel.
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