He had looked only briefly at the location details. Had verified that it was a real place and then stopped researching. It was a hotel by the name of 

Seaside Rest

, and the reviews weren't bad. He didn't want to look at the images and read the reviews in detail because he wanted to keep it a fantasy far away until he arrived.

All this driving was relaxing. Sort of like therapy for him. And having the Seaside Rest hotel as an imagined destination made this therapy all the better. He wondered if this is sort of what church used to be like for people back when majority of the country's population attended Sunday service.

Now they didn't have that. Most people spent Sundays watching video reels or playing games or watching sports. It was a different world, but in this rolling tin can, he felt like he was outside of that world.

In some ways he didn't want to arrive at The Seaside Rest. Pete was scared that the spell would break. Ironic because one of the things he thought most about during this drive was what kind of hotel The Seaside would be. He imagined it was a quaint hotel, and old school place rather than a corporate franchise. And there would be locals who had worked there all their working lives.

It was small chance that this is actually what the Seaside would be like. But he could imagine it at least. Maybe that's why he was taking the long route there. Taking needless detours. He said to himself that it was to throw 'them' off from being able to track him but deep down he knew it was because he wanted to stay at 'the church' a little while longer. To keep his head bowed and his hands clasped even after the organ had stopped playing and the congregation had all gone home except for the final member who would be closing up their conversation with the pastor.

Pete felt like he was hearing the closing of that final conversation. Soon the pastor would come greet him and he would need to unclamp his hands and look up and open his eyes.