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The Hotel is a place that is stumbled upon, often unexpectedly, by anyone who is in need of a stay.

There is already a reservation in their name at the desk.

A suite awaits with wrapped chocolates poised precariously on perfectly fluffed pillows.

Room service brings anything a guest might desire, completely free of charge.

(And they do mean anything.)

The light in the hallways is soft and pleasing to the eye, no harsh fluorescents casting twitching shadows.

The entire Hotel, from the lobby to the penthouse, is glowing and serene.

It is an oasis from the outside world. A respite in which anything can be accomplished.

And still, guests spend most of their time in the bar.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

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