Shades of Gray

The walls are moving. Like melting ice cream, they run down to the floor, making little gray pools on the gray tile. I wonder what they taste like, but I can’t seem to move. Droning voices dully punctuate the air around me, like pulsing ocean waves. The desk below begins to look more and more like a pillow. I’m trapped, I think. Trapped between boredom and curiosity, life and death, dream and reality. Where am I? Who am I? Shades of gray.