Daily writing prompt

What place in the world do you never want to visit? Why?

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I’m the kind of girl who loves old things.

Old books with scribbled notes in the margins.

Old houses with creaky floors and clawfoot tubs.

Old soul music playing through a crackly speaker.

I even love old hotels—with their grand lobbies, velvet chairs, and elevators that ding like they’re clearing their throat.

But the second someone whispers “It’s got history… and it’s haunted”—

I’m out. Gone. Vaporized.

You’ll see nothing but my outline in the dust.

Because I don’t do haunted. Not even a little.

I don’t do flickering lights or sudden cold spots.

I don’t do “Room 217 has a story.”

I don’t want to hear about “Lady Margaret who appears in the mirror” or

“Guests who wake up to footsteps that aren’t theirs.”

Girl, no.

I came to sleep, not to start a side hustle as a ghost negotiator.

Call me picky. Call me superstitious.

Call me a walking “NOPE.”

But I have zero interest in sharing my complimentary robe with a spirit from the 1800s.

Give me charm. Give me elegance. Give me turn-of-the-century details.

But if that turn of the century includes a ghost in a corset humming lullabies from 1903?

You can keep it.

I’m putting filters on all my hotel searches now:

Boutique. Safe. Historic. Beautiful.

And absolutely, positively, NOT haunted.

Moral of the story?

Don’t tell me about your haunted hotel.

I’ll smile politely and start singing,

“La la la la la la la la”—

Because even if it was the best stay of your life,

my reservation’s in the land of peace, not poltergeists.