Elias closed his eyes and tried to find his "inner temple," as his therapist suggested. But the temple was being invaded. A teenager three seats down was watching TikToks at full volume without headphones—a relentless loop of high-pitched laughter and distorted bass. Behind him, two elderly women were having a shouting match about their respective gallbladder surgeries.
He looked at his ticket: .The red digital display on the wall read: B-002 . 5 : Hell Is Other People
He realized then that the doors weren't locked. They didn't have to be. Elias closed his eyes and tried to find
The toddler began to scream, a sound like a hawk being fed into a woodchipper. "C-one-one-four!" the speaker barked. Behind him, two elderly women were having a
"Next! B-zero-zero-three!" a voice crackled over a blown-out speaker.
The fluorescent lights in the DMV waiting room didn't just hum; they vibrated at a frequency designed to loosen tooth enamel. Elias sat on a plastic chair that had been molded for a body type that didn't exist in nature.
Elias froze. This was it. Salvation. He stumbled toward the plexiglass window, clutching his paperwork like a holy relic.