“Hello, and welcome to Hotel Fantasia. I would like to say ‘leave your sins at the door’, but first they need to be taken from you during your stay,” a woman spoke from behind the reception desk.

The man who had just entered the lobby looked around but he didn’t see the source of the voice. There was nothing fantastical about this hotel lobby. It looked like a cheap motel. He was disappointed. The walls were painted dark green, but one could clearly see previous layers of paint. The lights flickered from time to time, exposing a messy seating area filled with random flyers.

“Where are you? And what’s that non-sense your talking about?” the man asked.

“I’m Dipti and I’ll be your hostess during your stay,” the voice without a body said.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He was tapping his fingers on the counter and spoke like a man used to giving out orders.

“I’m everywhere, sir, in the walls, in the corridors, at your breakfast table. But I’m not in the rooms, no sir,” Dipti didn’t speak, there was a rhythm to her voice, somewhere between singing and speaking. “Please write your name and purpose of stay in the guestbook, sign it, and I’ll provide you with a key.”

The man wrote down his name. Reluctantly, he wrote down the purpose of his stay too. His wife had put him up to this.

“Welcome Benjamin, you have room number 4. May it replenish your soul and provide you with fantastical insight.”

Dumbfounded, Benjamin exited the lobby and found his room on the ground floor. Just when he wanted to open the door, a woman walked out of the room next to him. She was giggling and dancing towards him. Benjamin found her stunning and he looked her up and down. Perhaps it was a fantastical hotel after all.

“Hello, what are you here for?” she asked. Before Benjamin could respond, something else caught her attention. She skipped away, completely indifferent to whether or not he would answer her question.

Benjamin smirked and shook his head. The key wouldn’t turn and he had to kick the door three times before it budged. Then, he opened the door to his room.

Benjamin jumped upon entering the room. To be sure, he checked the hallway from which he came. It was still the same worn out motel corridor with its smudged walls and dingy carpet.

The room, however, was something else, something special. It looked luxurious, clean, and it was completely white.

Satisfied, Benjamin closed the door. When the door clicked in its post, he jumped again. The floor changed in front of his eyes. He blinked and had to make sure his mind wasn’t playing a trick on him. When he opened his eyes, however, the floor was completely covered in leaves. All the white in the room had been consumed by forest. Benjamin stood at the foot of it all, staring at four enormous chestnut trees. While in his mind Benjamin knew he should be terrified, his body was surprisingly calm. He took in the sights and looked at a clear blue sky. The sun was shining on the back of his head. Lush green trees and plants surrounded him. A smell of wood, raw earth, and wet leaves lingered in the air.

“Welcome Benjamin, it’s nice here, isn’t it?”, a voice said, coming from the trees. “Wouldn’t you like for your life to be like this?”

Benjamin searched for the speaker, but couldn’t find one.

“I’m right in front of you, fool,” the tree said, tapping his roots. The tree had a mouth. Benjamin shivered in shock. What is happening? Did someone put something in my drink? Is there someone here from the company?

“You can only ever feel like this if you change the path you’re on, young man,” a second tree spoke.

Benjamin felt uncomfortable and anxious. He wondered what the voices wanted. Who the person behind this trick was. He would get him. “What’s wrong with my path?” he shouted.

“This,” the third tree spoke.

The trees shuddered and shattered their leaves. Grass grew bleak, plants shrank and lost their color and scent. The trees bared all their leaves and stood before him, naked. The fallen leaves were dying a slow death, their colors changing, one more beautiful than the other. Until its skeletons infused the last bits of red and yellow with grey, ultimately turning them dusty brown.

“This is your path, young man,” tree number four said.

Benjamin fell to the ground.

The woman shrieked and dropped her purse. “Wh-where are you? Hello?”

“I’m everywhere,” the voice said. “I’m Dipti and I’ll be your hostess during your stay.”

“Right, I’m Sadie. Listen, I want to book a room. I need to lie down.”

“Naturally, please write your name and purpose in the guestbook, sign it, and I’ll provide you with a key.” It was almost as if the woman was singing. Sadie felt uncomfortable. She picked up her purse and walked towards the counter.

She looked at the guestbook and grabbed the pen lying next to it. Sadie could feel her heart beating fast. The lobby spun around her. She felt trapped and wanted it to be over. But she knew these attacks couldn’t be controlled, she learned that in therapy, but it was hard to do so. The only thing she could do really was to not let it control her and push through. Sadie knew she wasn’t going to faint or have an attack. It was all in her head. Like she was scared of an invisible ghost from her past.

“Come on now, miss, write down your name and enjoy the tranquility of your room. You need an insightful new environment. Breathe and focus on the guestbook. One thing at a time.” Dipty said.

One thing at a time, if only it was that easy, Sadie thought. I don’t have time for this really, I must finish my research proposal, check my email, respond to my daughter’s messages, get some groceries for dinner with Maye and Jen for tomorrow, have a-, She caught herself again. She was about to grab her phone. No, you don’t have to do anything, remember? Just enjoy a night without pressure and relax.

There was only room for one more name on the page, next to room 4. Sadie wrote down her name.

“Welcome Sadie, you have room number 5. May it replenish your soul and provide you with fantastical insight.”

Sadie jumped for she was once again startled by the voice. Her heart was still racing, but the lobby returned to the regular lobby it always had been. She entered the hallway and looked for room number 5. She could hear strange noises coming from the rooms she passed. She quickened her pace until she found her room. When she did, she immediately walked in, closed the door, put her purse on the nightstand and lay down.

Sadie focused on her breathing and allowed for it to go back to normal. Then she closed her eyes.

Darkness, peace, and quiet. Immediately, thoughts popped up, demanding her attention. Sadie had had an unpleasant year. The death of a family member, losing her job, getting a new job she disliked. Her daughter graduating and moving to another city. She was in a constant state of insecurity. Did her husband love her enough? Was he cheating? Why hadn’t she quit her boring job yet and start her own company? Would she dare? What other things could she be doing? Should she travel? Should she just find another job? Thoughts dripped and dripped into Sadie’s overloaded brain. So many choices, so much uncertainty.

When Sadie opened her eyes, she was standing in the dark. She heard a harp playing in the distance. When Sadie looked down, she found blue threads coming from her belly and forming a circle around her. The threads were alight and more and more materialized heading in different directions. Soon, she felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web. The further she looked, the more complex the lines seemed. They were splitting into more threads as if they were branches.

The threads turned different shades of blue. Some of the fiber strands changed into turquoise or bright green. Sadie reached for the threads and every time she touched one, she felt a vibrating pulse going through her body, the fibers glowing. Every touch had a tone to it as well, like she was playing the harp herself.

Wide, smiling mouths appeared above her, each singing softly, they sang a song in canon. The mouths reminded Sadie of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

“Good evening,” one of the mouths said.

Sadie jumped, resulting in the threads waving into eternity, playing different sounds. However, they stayed attached to her body.

“Choices,” another said. “Choices,” a third cried. “Choices,” a fourth mouth gasped.

“Don’t dawdle,” the first mouth continued.

“Pick a thread and have faith,”

“Stick to your choice, before it’s too late,”

“Don’t get distracted,”

“Discover your fate,” the first voice finished.

“Just focus, make a decision, stay on track and enjoy the ride. What is it you really want?”

“He’s waking, the excuse of a man,” tree number one said, who was obviously in charge.

“Oh yes, I hope he gets on with it, I don’t like being naked in this cold,” the fourth tree said.

Benjamin stood up. He wasn’t having a dream. The forest was still there, talking trees and all.

“As we were trying to explain — before you brutally interrupted us with your own misery — you’re here to make a choice.”

“A choice? What in the hell for?”

“See these poor leaves? They’re dying.”

“So?”

“Well, now they must perform a new function in the circle of life: be reborn and fulfill a new purpose. The outcome, however, lies in the choice you will make. One outcome brings into fruition new life. This way, the leaves can fulfill a new duty. Or they die, rotten, only to disturb the circle of life and the cycle of growth.”

The trees stared at Benjamin, waiting for a response.

“Take your time,” the first tree said.

“I don’t get it,” was all Benjamin could fathom saying.

“Self-actualization not for the self or to impress others. Taking more than you give. Neglecting the important things in life by distancing yourself from being a human being. A lack of genuine human connection. Shall I go on?”

Shame was all he felt. He understood what they were saying, he had suppressed this realization long ago. He put it in a locked case and archived it in the forbidden section of his internal library.

He loved her once, his wife, before he became consumed by his work. As his career progressed and the money started rolling in by the barrels, he had other things on his mind than her. He didn’t care about the way he earned that money. The job had been a means to an end. And an interesting end to spend one’s time in useless distraction from actually living. He had two daughters too. He had no idea what they were thinking of the world, of their lives or of him. He never asked.

Benjamin betrayed his country and had played a dangerous political game. Somehow, however, he managed to sway his fortune and made some gold out of it. Too much was never enough.

Sadie grabbed a thread. “Finishing your thesis,’ one of the voices said.

She took another. “Starting an online dating agency.” That was her dream. She held on tightly. One by one she grabbed different threads, finding new opportunities with every touch. The choice to go on a trip with her husband, to stay in her current job, to take up tango lessons, redecorate the house, to take some time off to reload, to start training for a half marathon. Sadie kept grabbing new cords. She enjoyed the overview of her choices and she could see the branches of her possibilities in the distance lighting up. Harp music still played. After a few minutes, she had two hands full of chords.

Sadie moved forward and followed the threads, soon they were all heading in different directions, showing multiple branches of future possibilities. Some of the cords she was holding stayed close to each other, others went in completely opposite directions.

She focused on the one about finishing her thesis. She could see herself struggle through it but finish it at the expense of her mental health. The thesis could turn out well and get published. She might be promoted and head for a career in teaching and more research. The farther she looked, however, the further this thread deviated from the direction of the other threads she was holding.

When she focused on the thread to start an online dating agency, she could see a future filled with uncertainty, but with much more pleasure in what she was doing. She could see her company gain traction as she successfully matched more and more couples. She could even see herself become moderately successful at it, branching out with an app and having a few people on the payroll. This thread stayed closer to the one which would allow her to travel or explore other hobbies.

The threads she was holding onto started to glow and turned into different colors. Green, blue and red. The harp music became eerie and lost its beautiful rhythm. So many choices, but what would be the right one? Sadie felt that pressing feeling on her chest again, a toxic nervousness like she had to perform live on a stage without being able to sing.

The mouths started laughing but didn’t say a word. Sadie’s worry grew even stronger, her heart beating fast, her sweaty hands holding on tight to the ropes. She was afraid another attack was coming. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?” she asked.

“What do you think?” the mouths said in unison, still laughing.

She knew. Of course she did. She had been doing it her whole life. Worry up to a point she almost froze and couldn’t do anything anymore.

“Stop being stuck in a fictional future. Chronic worry results in an unreasonable, fictional fear. Imaginative suffering is the worst kind of suffering. It’s unnecessary.” The first mouth spoke.

“I know that, but I can’t help it. I don’t know what to do!”

“Instead of basing a decision on what might happen and then picking the safest story you could tell yourself, try to do the opposite and choose something that scares you because of what it could bring you. You know what you desire most, give it air to breathe. If you fail, you won’t end up on the streets. You can always go back to certainty waiting for you in the dark like a familiar stranger. Your lifelines are in front of you. Follow the path that excites you and see what happens. What will you do, Sadie?”

A child was running by, inspecting the trees and touching them. Then, he reached down to pick up a leaf and study it. He waved it around until he threw it in the air only to see it fall and join its kind on the earth. The boy smiled and ran into the forest.

Benjamin was taken aback by seeing the boy. He was that boy, about twenty-five years ago.

The trees started laughing. “He’s beginning to see.”

“Yes, but I think we have to show him another memory, don’t you think?”

Benjamin saw himself examining a fossil of a long forgotten beetle species he’d gotten from his father after they had visited the Archeology museum. With a magnifying glass, he studied it in the light of the window. His mind completely lost in a possible past filled with dinosaurs and other extinct creatures.

“Another,” tree number two demanded.

A teenage Benjamin kissed a girl for the first time. His now wife, Maureen. It was at a birthday party of a mutual friend. They had had some wine and sneaked into the back yard to make out. Even now, all those years later Benjamin could feel that boyish excitement of being intimate with a girl he liked.

“Thank you for showing me that. I-I must admit I haven’t revisited these memories lately.”

“I think he gets it,” the fourth tree mumbled, “now can I get my leaves back?”

“Be the spring to your own winter and may you flourish into summer,” tree number one said.

The mouth of the second tree spoke: “Are you a religious man?”

“I can’t say I am.”

“Don’t you believe in anything?” the tree asked him.

“No.”

“When you don’t believe in anything or aren’t devoted to something you deem higher than yourself, you have to at least believe in suffering. For when you do, you won’t inflict pain on yourself and others. Instead, you should try to relieve others and yourself from it. Compassion should be your commitment. To yourself and the people around you.”

Sadie looked at all the threads she was holding. Slowly, she let go of some of them. The harp music played back into harmony. Red threads disappeared as well as the pressure on her chest.

“Pick one, and when you walk on the path you’ve chosen, pick another that’s close but that doesn’t deviate too much from your destination.”

“How do I know I picked the right one? Can I go back?”

“You have to realize you can accept the choice or disregard it for something else. Make your choices, but keep moving forward. Don’t linger or go back to the beginning. Don’t stretch yourself thin. Be present with your decision when walking on the path itself. Try not to look back and hold on in fear of the road ahead, then your journey will come to a halt.

Sadie looked at the one remaining piece of fiber in her hand. She walked forward under the smiling gazes of four gigantic cat heads. The thread touched upon others and branched out in different directions. She made sure to stay close to her main thread and to only use one hand for grabbing the threads. Using both hands was simply too overwhelming.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Benjamin asked a woman who smiled at her plate of food. When she heard his voice she looked up and smiled at him. He guessed she was about ten years older than him, but her expression spoke otherwise. She radiated youth and energy. All other tables were occupied with other guests, whom all spoke loudly. Some were laughing and splashing milk at each other. Two others chased each other, zig-zagging between the tables.

“Sure,” the woman said, while grabbing something invisible in the air, “I’m Sadie. Are you as hungry as I am?”

Benjamin chuckled. “I guess I am, Sadie. I’m Benjamin.”

“Ok then, Benjamin.” She lingered a bit too long in pronouncing the last ’n’ as if she’d just discovered a whole new letter.

“Excuse me,” an elder, bald man spoke, “take care of that beautiful black hair, it’s gone before you know it.” He ran away giggling. His pace was energetic and wonky.

Sadie laughed out loud, snorting. “That’s hilarious,” she cried.

Benjamin laughed too. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so unapologetically. “How’s your night been?” he asked after a while.

“What does that receptionist say? Insightful, it was.” Sadie responded, still smiling. “I’m curious, what have you learned?”

“I keep thinking about myself as a kid. I was so in awe of the world, taking it all in. Experiencing it. Somehow I followed some path that did all but move me forward.”

“Tell me about it,” Sadie gushed.

“At least believe in suffering,” Benjamin repeated, whispering.

“You speak first of the joy of being a kid, then of suffering. Ironic, isn’t it? That as kids we suffer less because our world is still filled with wonder. That’s our main narrative before doubt and worry creep in. I’d rather suffer through uncertainty than miss out of what could have been.”

“Good for you. I’ve done exactly that, and I missed out on many things, some would even say the most important things. It’s time for me to change that.” Inside room number 4 an old chestnut tree laughed.