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sound, not even an engine igniting. Another thing that struck me about the car was its interior. It might have seemed a passably modern vehicle from the outside but the inside was far removed from the sleek and compact comforts of modern cars. Inside was very basic but roomy with the seats made of old-fashioned leather. As we drove I noticed a dark outline of the old style steering wheel and upholstery possibly wooden with a shiny circular speedometer. It reminded me of an old family Vauxhall from when I was a child with its hard spacious interior and chrome finishes. The absurdity of these scenarios no longer astonishes me when I look back at them because that absurdity seems to be an essential theme. Had I been in a fully conscious state of mind I too would wonder why these things were the way they were. I have found that this theme of absurdity isn’t just there as a deliberate smokescreen to confuse but as an actual mishap of compatibility, something I will explain in a later chapter. It was also hard to detect where we were driving but I would say the car was heading Westerly, more out of the suburbs and into the sticks. I could not make out any familiar roads or buildings but just see occasional streetlights shining in. Another strange aspect was the total absence of other traffic oncoming or otherwise. The roads were quieter tonight than I had ever seen before and this was eerie. If this route existed anywhere in the physical world then it certainly wasn’t local. I certainly don’t remember or claim to have been this way since. Despite the unfamiliarity there wasn’t an inkling of apprehension in me and the whole journey’s conversation had probably been the most familiar I could enjoy with total strangers. Yet still I fail to remember a single spoken word. The estimated 20 minute journey was winding down into a very rural area where the street lighting became less and I could just about make outlines of nearby trees and bushes. We pulled up into a driveway and remember being told we had arrived despite the fact that no sound of slowing wheels or engines could be heard. I remember seeing a particularly dull building in front that I surmised to be our destination. At a glance the building could have been old brewery or somewhere disused with its old brickwork and lightless windows. The roof was flat and the inky sky above I could just about decipher. The inside however could not have been further from its mundane exterior. After being led down a short flight of stairs I came to the most elaborate marble floored corridor I had ever seen with huge halls on either side. The building’s appearance from outside didn’t seem big enough to house this 65