Content warning: unapologetically first-person perspective; smattering of objective stuff at the end.
My friend and I were sitting in the hippie-vibes foyer sipping water from tiny ceramic mugs. Dream catchers dangled across from us and ambient New Age music was subtly setting the mood. A guy with damp hair emerged from a corridor, having just completed his first session. The receptionist looked up to ask how he’d found the experience. He had gotten motion sickness.
“The first time’s a write-off for everyone,” she informed him consolingly, immediately glancing at us and apologising.
His more elated girlfriend soon emerged, and it was now our turn. This is the contraption I was to get into, the Apollo model:
Trading Atoms 