Cecilia sat in the hospital lobby.
She truly looked every part like someone who had been dropped onto an alien planet and was trying very, very hard not to look like she was taking mental notes on everything she saw.
The chair beneath her was… sleek and strange. The floor was a marvel of seamless, pale tile, polished to a reflective sheen that caught the overhead lights and threw them back in soft, diffuse patterns.
The walls were painted a calming shade of blue-green, decorated with framed images that she now understood were not paintings.
And the signs.
The signs were everywhere. They were glowing, flickering and displaying words and arrows and numbers in a crisp, clean alphabet that was almost, but not quite, the script she had learned in the real world.
