Moments in life where you need to walk alone and decide.
2 405 hours ago
Moja własna Manarola. Blisko 3 lata temu (bez kilku tygodni) tak ochrzciłam widok z piętra mojego bloku (tuż po wprowadzeniu się do mieszkania). Kilka dni temu nadrobiłam tę prawdziwą., zanim opuszczę „moją własną”. P.S. Zdjęcia, które oglądaliście w moich relacjach oraz widzicie tutaj, w całości edytowane tylko i wyłącznie w Lightroom, z pomocą moich autorskich presetow.
A little story for you "A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.
The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough, it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.
This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.
At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, “Did you look through the keyhole?” The man told her that he had and she said, “Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.”
From creepypasta.com. Thanks @tlis248 for the story
Night Owl views🦉 Say hi to the empty lot up ahead aka Transbay Terminal Station— a hub for Bay Area residents looking to get around the city or ride out of town. Too tired to drive from here to L.A.? Hitch a ride and go.