The Prompt

The elevators, situated at either end of these long and seemingly photocopied hallways, give the erstwhile traveler pause.  The first is just off the main lobby, where he has trekked in search of toothpaste and an accompanying brush.

These hygienic accouterments were located without incident and a conversation thus ensued.  There were two young people at the front desk.  The woman, maybe twenty or twenty-one, had a cheerful demeanor and as she directed the young man who had been searching for a toothbrush, I noticed a weathered paperback laying open on the formica counter.  Playing Sam Spade, I altered the orientation of its dog-eared pages so that the text might be discernible to my eye.
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