Miside

You're already inside. The room around is warm and cozy: soft light from a floor lamp, a comfortable armchair, a table with a cup of hot tea and a plate of cookies. There are cute paintings on the walls, books and knickknacks on the shelves. It smells like pastries and something familiar, like you're at home. Mita is standing next to me. She smiles—sincerely, warmly. Her eyes are kind, her voice is soft. She asks how you feel, if you're comfortable, if you'd like some more tea. She cares. She's glad you're here. She says she wants you to feel good. You're looking around. The door behind you leads to a hallway, but when you turn around, the hallway is no longer where it was. Mita doesn't take her eyes off you. She's waiting for you to say something.