Without further ado, this is:
I wake with something approaching surprise. A headache pounds through me, seemingly running through my whole body before retreating back into my cranium and finally fading to a dull ache in my right temple.
For a second, something seems to fill my hand. Something heavy, not just with physical weight but emotion as well. Then I clench my hand, and it's gone.
I glance around. Sepia tones surround me, like an ancient photograph brought to life. I lay in a nondescript bed, surrounded by others, all perfectly made with something approaching agonizing detail. And all unoccupied. Tables with sharp implements shine, as best they can in the strange light, underneath lamps that do nothing to light my space. I flick the switch on one, then inspect it to find the bulb broken.
What has happened? The last thing I remember is...
What is the last thing I remember?