text: It began with the scent of crushed lavender. At that moment there was no recognition of self or other, only the unmistakable feeling of change this wafting fragrance brought to an otherwise still and vacant mind. The scent overwhelmed him but even at its height, the moment was tainted by the subtle realization that it was beginning to fade. In an effort to compensate for the loss his attention shifted to the warmth of the sun on his face; another fleeting but equally intoxicating sensation. Despite his own desire to keep his eyes shut, the light seemed to work its way under, prying them open. A lavender field lined with trees came into view. He surveyed his surroundings. Jacob’s thoughts remain scattered and incoherent but he could at least remember himself. How long had he been standing there for? His inquiry was suddenly interrupted by a red figure to his left. A door. A free-standing door. A free-standing door furnished with a brass knob and matching knocker. Jacob looked behind him for any other signs of activity before venturing further. Now Jacob was certainly no builder, but it was common knowledge that doors should typically be attached to buildings. For this reason he pushed against the red specter, testing its reality and half expecting it to fall over. The door was surprisingly firm. In fact, for a door placed in the middle of a field it appeared remarkably unweathered. The other side of the frame revealed nothing. At this moment a dull but unmistakable ring emanated from the wooden monolith. Jacob’s curiosity piqued. Pressing his ear against the immaculate red wood grain Jacob steadied his breath and listened intently for any sign of life. But not a sound could be heard other than the rhythmic thumping of his own heartbeat. The thumping briefly distracted him from the question of the door but it was soon interrupted by another ring. Jacob’s pulse quickened. The ringing reminded him of the kind of bell one might find at a shop counter. Was someone calling for help? As though in answer and without much thought Jacob’s hand found its way to the door knob and turned it. With his weight still resting firmly against it, the door caved in. Jacob stumbled across the threshold. However, instead of the feeling of loose soil and broken vegetation, his distressed leather oxfords found themselves comforted by the soft padding of a Persian rug. As his head lifted his eyes darted across the floor, following the dark wooden beams to the finely detailed wooden balustrade above. Directly above him hung the most elaborate chandelier he had ever seen. Hundreds of finely cut crystals of varying sizes suspended by gold thread and refracting the light of hidden sources gave the chandelier an ominous sense of both weight and fragility as though it were some illuminated sword of Damocles that would fall at any given moment. Jacob hurriedly moved forward, however, remembering the red door, he looked back to spy what it looked like from the inside. It was gone. Now he was most certainly committed to this path though he did not know where he was going or from where he had come. His field of view widened. Surrounding him on all sides were various doors; some closed however, many were opened. Through the door to his left Jacob could see a man in his early 50s dressed in a vest and tie clutching a black, corded rotary phone and sternly addressing someone on the other end. Jacob quickly shifted his gaze to another room. A woman in her mid-thirties and sporting a black-laced fascinator and red lipstick caught his eye before closing the door. “Excuse me sir.” Jacob shifted his attention to the source of the voice; A uniformed woman occupying a service desk in the centre of the lobby. “Excuse me sir, may I help you?” the lady enquired. “Help me?” “Yes sir. How may I assist you today?” “Can you please tell me where I am” Jacob asked. “Why yes, of course sir; you are in the lobby sir.” “The lobby? Well, yes I... I can see that but where is the lobby? What kind of place is this?” Jacob remarked. “Where would you like to go sir?” “What? How can I possibly know where I want to go if I don’t know where I am?” “Well sir, it seems to me that if you don’t know where you are then you should start with where you would like to be. Then you will know where you are not.” Jacob stared at the woman in complete bewilderment. “Just... just tell me the name of this place. Please.” “Certainly sir. This is the Hilbert hotel. Now, where would you like to go?” Although Jacob felt this answer to be sufficient he had the sudden and uncomfortable feeling that it didn’t make any difference. Whether this place was called the Hilbert hotel or perhaps went by some other name, he was still lost. The concierge was right. If he didn’t know where he was going then it didn’t matter where he was. At this point Jacob realized that he didn’t know much of anything. No relations, no friends, no work, no home. Nothing. And so, he began to panic.