The crash was confusing, but I got out and got hunting for supplies, shelter and ways to signal for any potential rescue attempts. I had some sense of control.
That was all gone.

When I woke up, my body was faced down, suspended onto two moss-textured slabs. My skin was suddenly awake, tingling and I slowly realized, evidenced by the feeling of the air shifting around me, that I was naked and hairless. My head hung between the slabs and the first view I had was of my distorted bulging stomach and my junk. That felt so damn weird and awkward that it startled me. I somehow stuffed my entire body between the slabs. Panicked, I crawled my way back until I fell out on my ass, onto the open floor.

Everything felt wrong, too crisp, too fresh like all my skin was a first-degree burn and the top dead layer was seared off. It was still there but looking at the tips of my fingers, I couldn't even make out the creases of fingertips. My nails looked paper-thin, with no cuticles and no length to the nail.

I took in the enclosure and thought "I must have been set up as the main attraction of a perverse art installation and at any minute the contentious crowds will show up clapping and offering me a robe". But my mind rejected it even as it struggled to finish the idea. Unfinished thoughts are one of my pet peeves.

There were some clues - there were no scents, no sounds, no doors. No obvious way to get in or out but quite a few greenish fixtures that could have been sculptures, furniture or time machines. They arched and dipped in ways that seemed to have no sense or function. Some looked to have levers, others had misshapen steps, and others seemed to just be tubes that stretched from walls to the floor to ceiling. The steps were spaced wrong, the levers were disproportionate and placed often at inaccessible heights. But it was all covered in the green organic-looking spongy surface that smoothed out all the corners.