He opened the door and carried the bags in. Then he turned around, but the guest was not there. He stepped into the corridor, but it was empty.
He took the elevator all the way down into the lobby and saw the desk was unmanned. He looked in the back room, but that was also empty. He went into the hotel bar, but there was no bartender and no guests. He looked into his phone – his contact list was empty.
“What is going on here?” he said to himself, “Has everyone disappeared?”
He stepped outside and saw the majesty of the wilderness; the forest was primal and ancient, the mountain was immovable and dominating. He gasped at the entirety of it all, he ventilated, he sighed, he hyperventilated, he dropped dead.
A bunch of aethereal kids came over to prance about and frolic near his body, and they sang this song:
Toora Loora Teeda Tar
Bellboy, bellboy, where you are
There’s no light and there’s no dark
Teera Deera Poora Park.
The gods paid no attention to the children singing except for Apollo, who wept over the poor bellboy who was the last person in this world. And Apollo sang this song:
Teeda Reeda Booda Rad
Bellboy, bellboy, I am sad.
There’s no people anymore
Meera Keera Beera Bore.