The mannequin wears a Virgin Airlines air hostess uniform with a badge depicting a single feathered wing and heavy buttons that may well be genuine brass. There’s already a certain museum credibility surrounding the uniform. The mannequin doesn’t have a head.
On the other side of the room, a heater/cooler/evaporator contraption that has a vent and cylindrical body suggestive of a Dalek.
A white carpet with several inches of pile and Venetian blinds – also white. The windows are long slots and the glass is like water in a river. There is further greenery outside so it is difficult to tell where outside begins or ends.
A bearded man sits in a wicker bucket chair watching a round TV like an astronaut’s helmet. He leans forward, props his head with his hands in the manner of the thinker.
Now to sit for a while, gaze out of these long windows.
You, the observer, have no idea what he’s thinking. He could be planning dinner or murder.
Imagine no-one could interrupt you again.
That you could go on sitting by these long windows following your own thoughts forever.