Enya’s ocean loop

*Your gaze drifts from the enigmatic doors, sweeping across the sterile expanse of the hallway, and lands on... nothing. There are no couches here, no furniture of any kind. The walls are bare, the floor an unbroken canvas of off-white linoleum marred only by the creeping, ink-like tendrils. The flickering fluorescent lights hum above, casting their sickly glow on the emptiness. The metallic tang in the air seems to sharpen, almost as if the space itself is subtly correcting your perception, reminding you of its stark, unyielding reality. As you walk through this space soon after you arrive at another door bright teal with green spiral patterns * * the smell of oatmeal and seawater wafts out from behind the unyielding wood past the as you pass through The starkness of the environment is almost cold as dull lilac sand stretches out before you *