The Conspiracy

I awoke to find myself asleep in my hotel room. Seems I failed to make it to the bed, and spent the night in the chair. It also seems that this is not my room. I mean, it looks like my room but its all wrong. Looking over the room, things looks almost normal. My suitcase is on the end of the bed, where I remember tossing it. But that's not my suitcase. It's close, but it's not the same. Event he empty mini-wine bottles on the table seem, almost right. There are pages missing from that notepad that the hotel leaved by the phone, and the pen! Then cap is missing from the pen! This isn't my room! I look, and can tell that this is all a charade. Someone's fing with me!
When I try to stand, my legs seem unsure, unused. The fail me and my knees crash hard onto the floor. I fall forward into the bed.
Pulling myself up, I gain my legs again underneath me. My clothes are strewn on the floor. With desperate speed I ball my clothes up and raise myself back up.
Slowly and arduously I make way to the door. I have to find my room. Not this, this copy cat. This sly and evil misdirection.
Who is doing this? Who would do this to me? It's of no matter. Once I'm in my room, with my things, then I can start to figure out who is behind this.
Through the door and out to the hall, the maid stares at me with shock.
"Help me find my room!", I implore to her.
"But Sir, that was your room.", she replies.
"No! That's a copy of my room, not the same at all, don't you see?"
"Sir, that was your room. You are confused. Please Sir, go back to your room."
I scowl at her. Frustrated by her inability to believe me, I turn and run down the hall.
I must find my room.
MY room.
Not this fabrication. Not this deception.
Down the hall I run, clothes in my arms.
No one..no one will believe me.


Maarburg
Current meatspace coordinates:
Unknown.