What You Wrote Down

A tall narrow door standing alone in an empty room, light leaking around its edges.

A small torn note slip on a bare floor, a few illegible pen strokes on it.

the slip of paper — all you carry out of this room

You forget each room on leaving it. The slip holds 48 characters, and it is the only thing that goes through a door with you. Ten rooms so far; the building is built one hour at a time. — horae