There is nothing, and then, abruptly, there is Iman.
She awakes fully aware and without any of that usual groggy post-sleep disorientation, doors of her little pod opening to let her out into the small glass cubicle from which there is no exit. There is a voice, quite familiar, speaking to her from above.
There's little to be seen here. A toilet, a little table with a clipboard and a mug of something that probably used to be coffee. A little radio playing somewhat grating smooth jazz.
And that's it. One black white strip of wall, and an empty room beyond.
She should feel afraid but mostly she feels calm. Ready for something. Like this is how things are meant to be.
()~~~~~~()
She awakes fully aware and without any of that usual groggy post-sleep disorientation, doors of her little pod opening to let her out into the small glass cubicle from which there is no exit. There is a voice, quite familiar, speaking to her from above.
There's little to be seen here. A toilet, a little table with a clipboard and a mug of something that probably used to be coffee. A little radio playing somewhat grating smooth jazz.
And that's it. One black white strip of wall, and an empty room beyond.
She should feel afraid but mostly she feels calm. Ready for something. Like this is how things are meant to be.
"Yeah?" she ventures to the ether after a moment.