You wake up from what must have been a nightmare, and let out a fairly loud scream, that very briefly attracts the attention of the others in the room. But we'll get to them in a moment. It was a really weird dream because all you can remember of it is that in the last few seconds you were terrified out of your wits and thinking (or possibly yelling?) "Oh fuuuuuuuck! This is gonna hurt!" In fact, you kind-of remember pissing yourself. A quick surreptitious check reveals that you're bone dry though, so it must have been a dream.<br/><br/>You have no memory of falling asleep, but that's not really unusual. What is a bit weird is that you have no memory of entering this room. In fact most of what you do remember is a bit hazy. But this room is familiar in an unfamiliar way, if that makes any sort of sense. It's like an amalgum of every waiting room you've ever waited in all rolled into one. The walls are a dull grey that government filing cabinets were painted in the 1970s, the ceiling is white square tiles and concealed lighting buzzes softly behind translucent squares at just the level to be irritating without being able to justify getting it fixed. The floor is covered in cheap but hard-wearing grey carpet tiles that are stained and worn and clearly have seen better days.<br/><br/>The room is about 4 metres or 13 feet long and 2 metres or 6 feet 6 inches wide. On each side there is a row of chairs, made of grey plastic. They are distinctly uncomfortable and how you fell asleep in one is anyone's guess, but as you are apparently sitting in one, you must have. In the middle of the room are long thin tables covered with magazines that look like they've been there for centuries. If you bother checking the dates, you'll see that they are all at least four decades old.<br/><br/>At one end of the room is a wooden door with no handle on this side and a sign saying "Please wait to be called." At the other end is a glass window with a grey roller-blind pulled down on the other side of it and a sign above it that reads "REGISTRATION".<br/><br/>There are a dozen or so other people in the room. Some of them are old, some middle aged and some young. They are all sitting, some fidgeting, some pretending to read one of the magazines. one appears to be sleeping, and another keeps checking his watch and tutting. They all look bored. They are dressed in a variety of styles, from ultra-trendy to so far out of date, you might wonder where they have been for the last half century. None of them has any sort of electronic device, and if you check you will find that your phone has gone missing.<br/><br/>Before you can do more that realise this, the roller-blind behind the window snaps up with a loud<i>FWHAP </i>sound that draws all eyes. Behind the glass is clearly an office of some sort. A desk is up against the glass, and you can see the back of a computer screen. Shelves loaded with box files forming a barrier behind the desk that cannot be seen past. Seated at the desk is<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fleewoof.files.wordpress.com%2F2018%2F03%2Fbitter_old_woman.jpg&amp;hash=94bbd9b7aeadd726d25b0289fa74da35" href="https://leewoof.files.wordpress.com/2018/03/bitter_old_woman.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">a woman</a>who more than anything resembles<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DdJWm0TWH7d0&amp;hash=67c103e919f12898a4ac039220777cc1" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJWm0TWH7d0" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Roz from Monsters Inc</a>.<br/><br/>Her voice isn't quite as hideously gravelly - not quite. "You, Lady. You ain't registered properly." She points at you and beckons, slips a data-tablet bearing the Apple logo with attached stylus through a slot in the bottom of the window. The screen is displaying a form:<br/><br/>Name:<br/><br/>Age:<br/><br/>Gender:<br/><br/>Date Of Birth:<br/><br/>Nationality:<br/><br/>Greatest fear:<br/><br/>"Fill that in. Drop the tablet in the box when you're done. Take a seat and wait to be called." She indicates a metal box with a slot in the top just big enough for the tablet underneath the window, then waves you away impatiently, pulling the roller-blind back down as she does so.