I love this story that came to me in a dream one night! In my dream, I heard a man say, “I am the night watchman of the Isadora Hotel.” Then he showed me his cabin and told me about a mystery. When I woke up, I wrote it down in my dream journal so I wouldn’t forget it. I knew I would eventually have to write about him.
There is no Isadora Hotel in Maine, where I placed the story, at least not that I have found. There is an Isadora Hotel in West Bend, along with several other incarnations in other countries, some spelled Isidora. But, whenever I have such a clearly defined dream, I tend to research the particulars, to verify if it could possibly be more than a dream. There have been times I learned that what I thought was a dream was possibly something more telepathic or precognitive. In the case of this story, however, I believe it was simply a little excursion organized by my pineal gland and over active imagination.
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