THE FUSE

Imagine you're plopped into a room with fluorescent lighting and ceilings low enough that, without fully extending your arms, you can touch them. The walls are close enough that you cannot extend them without grazing stark white drywall, and the room runs long and narrow in that particular way that registers as wrong before you can say why, like a corridor that forgot it was supposed to become a room. Every corner is lit, nothing is in shadow, the light humming with the unmistakable sound of chemical conduction, unforgiving, flat, and completely indifferent to the human body inside it. Unless you want to live in an A24 horror movie, your flight response was likely slightly activated just reading about it.