There are no chairs. I have had no food since I arrived. Yet I feel no hunger, no desire to move. How I have reached this place is unclear. It is difficult to think of anything from before.
Dust covers the floors.
The author paused, and I interruputed. He looked at me gravely. I'm getting to that. I am sick of this story already, I told him. It sounds to me like you are making it up as you go along.