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[color=c4c4c4]Gray. That was the first word that came out of the mouth of every poor soul unfortunate enough to end up in the city. It was gray in color, as thick panels of fog constantly suffocated the concrete world and cut it off from the sun. It was gray in heart, as every store and billboard was covered in slogans and phrases that were as nonsensically generic as they were vaguely threatening. And finally, it was gray in soul. The cityscape was dotted with others, although their status as human beings was questionable upon second glance. A parade of dress shirts and suitcases that filed through the dreary city, scuffed leather shoes clacking on the pavement with a rhythm that was unnaturally organized. The men and women stared dead ahead with empty eyes. None of them were attractive, with dozens of worry lines, warts and eye bags evenly distributed among the crowd. 

In truth, nobody knows where the city came from, or what it’s even called. People arrive in the hundreds, most of them brain dead, although there [i]are[/i] exceptions. Like you.

Your memories are hazy but intact, and you´re not sure where you actually are. Hell? Heaven? Another planet? There are others as confused and sentient as you, so you reasonably think to reach out to them. But then again... the world is strange and filled with irregularities. Calendars have months replaced with irrational strings of numbers, billboards are adorned with absolute nonsense. And the food? The textures are all  slightly off and blander than you ever thought possible. It´s as if the world was created halfway and abandoned for all eternity.

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[hr]
[color=c4c4c4]In another building in another part of the city there was a stack of depressingly generic instruction pamphlets. Opening one up would prove them to be more than just a decoration, however, as the information within was definitely out of the ordinary. It was a pale blue color, with black text and cartoon renditions of office employees standing next to speech bubbles.

[center][color=white]CONGRATULATIONS TO THE COWARD’S WHO HAVE RE-LIVED[/color][/center] 
-said a drawing of a man with a funny nose. He was holding an oversized stapler and grinning from ear to ear. The various grammatical errors warped the message’s meaning a bit, although it was still legible.

[center]
[color=white]


THIS IS A PURGATORY FOR THE COWARD’S OF LIFE
THOSE WHO HAVE AVOIDED THE MANY HARD DECISION’S IN LIFE
YOU’RE HOPES AND DREAMS AND MYSTERY’S WILL HAVE TO RE-LIVE
BY PLAYING LIFE AGAIN
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[/center]
A racially diverse trio of office grunts had their arms around each other. A drawing of a calendar and a water cooler was next to them. All three of the cartoon people had their mouths agape in joy, located just under the paragraph. The text continued.

[center]
[color=white]


BEGIN NEXT THE TRAINING PROGRAM BY FOLLOWING PROCEDURES
TEAR THE MANUAL AND BURN IT
AFTER AND TROW IT AWAY INTO A TRASH CAN
A CLEAN OFFICE IS A HAPPY OFFICE

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[/center]
A man in a vehicle was exclaiming the last portion of the strange instructions, with his elbow out the window and his tongue flapping about in a display of happiness.[/color]

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