He turns to face the girl. But his gaze shifts beyond her, through an archway, out a window. Are those- trees?

He squints while lifting a finger towards her, as if to say wait. He curves his walk around her, past her, away from her, towards a nearby window overlooking a forest.

He turns back to look for the door he came through, but it’s too dim to see.

There are strange structures here- they look like forts- forts cobbled together with furniture parts, cloth straps, and pillows bound by red and yellow twine.

He had walked into another room, but had ended up in another world.

He glances back at the girl speechless. 

"What? Surprised at the view?"

“What is this place?”

"Why... It's the grandest, most expensive waiting room you've ever seen!"

She flings her arms wide and spins in a circle. "Enjoy the splendid views! Behold the storied architecture! Meet the charming locals, and dive into a rich tradition of art criticism. Our most popular hobby, not including abuse of request forms." She gives a wave at her furniture-construction.

“How long have you been here?”

She winces. "Ah, and here we have faux pas number one. You'll learn the rules in time, I'm sure."

“What is… that…” He eyes the furniture fort abomination she fell from.

"The result of abuse of requisition forms, try to keep up."

"Don't mess with the new arrival too bad, Sunny!" Another man is jogging towards them. He looks Indian and is wearing jewelry. "Be welcome here, stranger. I am Shamat, a fellow penitent here."

Tom glances over at the man in jewelry. “No-” He lifts his hands towards them both.

“No,” he says again, now a quiet mumble. Silence for a time. The room, the whatever, starts to spin.

“Sorry, I-” He backs away. “I don’t-“ He glances around manically. “I’m passing through.” He looks up. “I’m not…” he trails off, and turns. 

He walks back the way he came.

They don't follow him, though he can hear the pair bickering behind him in amicable tones.

There's no glowing door of light to another office, merely a door to a vast plaza area in front of the 'waiting room'.

He takes a seat on some shape that looks more comfortable than the floor. And it was, until it collapsed, sprawling him out onto smooth polished stone. 

He can’t possibly be stuck. No. Not after all he’s been through. There’s always a door. There is always a door.

After a while, Shamat comes out to him.

"You are troubled. By the realization that we are stuck here for the moment? Fear not- People do leave. Those of us who have been here the longest, it is merely because we are not satisfied with what is offered."

"Thank you."

He sat then in silence. His breaths felt so real.

"Can I ask you something?"

He didn't wait long.

"Before this- what was your life like? Do you remember?"

"Why, I was a king! Or, I suppose, a merchant prince, a symbol. What a gilded prison it was! Poison in every chalice, daggers in every veiled insult and lies on every piece of paper I ever saw. Ah, but the disgust and exasperation I see in people's eyes here, when I complain of it, that is still a relief- Here, I'm just another poor soul in the waiting room. Nobody wants me to give them tax breaks. Nobody wants me to marry their bitch of a daughter." He shrugs. "I am free to write awful poetry and do nothing. Truly, this place is finer for me than the palace was."

A king. The last meeting with a king did not go so well. 

"A waiting room over a palace. Is there any offer you would accept?"

A thought suddenly occurred to Tom. Before Shamat could answer, Tom blabbered on. "Shamat, are you familiar with... tagee? Taiji? Do you know what it is?"

"Perhaps there is, in time. I asked for a lot. Maybe I'm just content here for now, and will move on when I am no longer so... The Taiji? Of course. It's... Well, a philosophical concept. The origin of all things. Or the summation of all things. If Wuji is all that could be, Taiji is all that is."

"This- this is Taiji." He looks over at the girl’s furniture fortress, the painted glass, the archways.

"I come from Wuji."

"Perhaps... that place is worth a lot, to you?"

"Perhaps. But you have just heard these words. Perhaps we are both confused, instead, yes? Wuji and Taiji are more than just single words. Or the tongue magic of the bureaucracy would have given you that."