One large white room. The edges between wall and floor indiscernible. An owl eyed man with a scruffy face sat on a wooden stool with a slight hunch. A suspiciously pink pill sat in the middle of the table in front of him.
He looked around, yet the size of his pupils didn't change. There was no distinct source of light.
So what do you do when you have no idea who you are, where you are and why you're sitting in a white room in front of an obnoxiously pink pill?
You swallow the damn thing.
At least that scruffy looking guy did.
Let's just call him Scruff.
He started feeling strange. Placebo? Possibly. The dark creases under his eyes contracted as he thought about that pill.
After a few moments he gathered the courage to pull himself out of his chair. Strength, to his discovery, was not a virtue that his youthful body lacked. But how strange it is to find yourself in a body you can't remember ever possessing...
Scruff started testing the size of the room by running his hands along the lengths of the walls and floors. He concluded that he's trapped.
As confidently as he felt the white light shining into his face, it began to warp into pinks, oranges and reds.
That must be the pill, he thought.
Fascinating how conveniently learned logical skills are remembered despite the amnesia...
Reality became rather confusing, as you may put it.
Along with the strange fluctuations in color the walls around him began to crumble.