He picked up his phone. The screen’s glare was a physical weight against his tired eyes. He opened the camera app, the lens struggling to focus on the frost patterns crystallizing on the windowpane. Click. was saved to his cloud.
X. S. S. It made no sense. He scrolled back through his gallery, looking at the metadata of the previous shots. He realized he had been reading the "328" in the filename as his room number, but looking at the photo again, he saw it. In the reflection of the window, just behind his own ghostly silhouette, was a floor plan tacked to the back of the door. IMG_20230131_014326_328.jpg
Tonight, as he watched the blue light through his camera lens, the sequence changed. Short. Short. Short. He picked up his phone