you decide to go into a building. you approach the door closest to you; the glass is frosted a creamy white, so you can't see inside. curiously, the door is unlocked. you twist the handle and slip inside without a sound. it's a relief to get away from the unnerving quiet of the city.

inside is dark and cool, slightly musty. the walls are lined with books as far as you can see. you walk to the nearest shelf and pick up a random book, and begin to read.

the writing is familiar. as you read on and on, you realise... this is the story of your life. everything that's ever happened to you seems to be written in this book.

rattled, you put the book down. where do you go from here?