(Another episode in our ongoing series of off‑planet adventures, now with 100% more uncomfortable chairs.)

Scene: A doctor’s waiting room. Fluorescent lights. Beige walls. A stack of magazines from 2019. Sera sits calmly, scrolling through her phone. Orin is staring at the other patients with the expression of someone who has just discovered a new species and is not sure whether to be fascinated or alarmed.

Orin: (whispering) Sera.

Sera: (without looking up) Mm?

Orin: That man has been staring at the same page of that magazine for eleven minutes.

Sera: He’s not staring. He’s reading.

Orin: He turned the page three minutes ago. Then he turned it back. Now he’s staring again.

Sera: (glancing up) He’s waiting for his name to be called.

Orin: (horrified) His name?

Sera: It’s a system. You give your name to the receptionist. When the doctor is ready, they call it.

Orin: (watching as a nurse calls a name. A man stands up, walks through a door. The door closes. The room resumes its silence.) That is… inefficient.

Sera: It’s normal.

Orin: (pointing to a woman with a toddler) That child has been whining for seventeen minutes. No one has done anything.

Sera: They’re waiting.

Orin: For what?

Sera: For the whining to stop.

Orin: (doubtfully) Is that a medical condition?

Sera: (sighing) It’s called parenting.

(A long pause. The toddler whines. The man with the magazine turns another page. Then turns it back.)

Orin: I have a hypothesis.

Sera: (bracing herself) I’m sure you do.

Orin: This entire room is a simulation.

Sera: Orin.

Orin: Think about it. The chairs are designed to be uncomfortable — not painful, just wrong. The magazines are deliberately outdated. The lighting is calibrated to induce mild despair. And the sound system plays music that no one likes.

Sera: (flatly) It’s a waiting room.

Orin: (ignoring her) The humans are not sick. They are participants. They are being tested.

Sera: Tested for what?

Orin: (waving a hand) Patience. Tolerance. The ability to sit in a beige room without screaming.

(A man across the room sneezes. Orin flinches.)

Sera: (tapping his knee) Orin. It’s just a waiting room.

Orin: (leaning closer) Then why is there a sign that says, “Please do not use your mobile phone in a manner that may disturb others”?

Sera: (pointing to a woman on her phone) She’s playing Candy Crush. No one is disturbed.

Orin: (doubtfully) That is a very loud game.

Sera: (putting her hand over his) Just… be quiet. Listen.

Orin: (listening) I hear… the hum of the lights. The shuffle of shoes. The distant sound of someone crying.

Sera: That’s the dentist’s office next door.

Orin: (horrified) They have dentists here?

Sera: (smiling) Would you like me to explain fillings?

Orin: (clutching his jaw) No.

(The nurse calls another name. A woman stands up, gathers her things, and walks through the door.)

Orin: (watching the door close) What if she never comes back?

Sera: She will.

Orin: (morbidly) You don’t know that.

Sera: (turning to face him) Orin. We are here for a routine check‑up. Nothing is going to happen. No one is going to disappear. And when our names are called, we will walk through that door, see the doctor, and leave.

Orin: (considering this) And then what?

Sera: (standing, pulling him up) Then we go home. I make tea. You complain about the chairs. And we never speak of this again.

Orin: (allowing himself to be led) You make very good tea.

Sera: (leading him toward the reception desk) I know.

Orin: (pausing) Sera.

Sera: (turning) What?

Orin: (pointing to the man with the magazine) He turned the page again.

Sera: (smiling) Progress.

(The nurse calls their name. Sera takes Orin’s hand. They walk through the door.)

(Curtain.)