Her head was pounding and her stomach rebelled. She squinted into the blue tinted light. Though it was dim, it still seared her sensitive eyes and the contents of her stomach threatened to reappear. She swallowed convulsively, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Cautiously, she rose to a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings. “Dorothy, you are not in Kansas anymore,” she whispered. The room was stark white, with strips of recessed light that glowed faintly blue. She was resting on a narrow bench, again white. It was upholstered in something that reminded her of leather but wasn’t quite. It was much softer and remained cool to the touch. Everything in the room was streamlined and functional, but appeared totally alien to her. It was also frigidly cold. There was a strange, shimmering blanket folded across her legs, providing some warmth. In spite of that, she could see her breath. Beneath the thin fabric of her work shirt, her nipples had pebbled in response to the chilly temperature.
