"Come in. Sit down." The man behind the desk greeted me with a warm smile and extended a friendly hand.

I looked around the room. Apart from a framed certificate on the wall behind the man, there was no decoration. Nor were there any windows - just two doors; one each side of the desk. "Hi," I said, and sat down.

The man behind the desk frowned, then resumed his previous cheerful demeanour. "I suppose you're wondering what you're doing here."

"How did you know -" I began, but the man interrupted me.

"Generally there are two kinds of client. Those who are very vocal and rather indignant; and those who are more quiet and introspective."

"And because I didn't immediately start yelling, I'm one of the latter?"

The man smiled and nodded. "That's it exactly. To answer your question, you are here for your assessment."

"Assessment?" I parroted his words like an idiot.

"Oh yes." The man tapped a nameplate on the desk in front of him. "I'm an assessor. Second grade." There was a note of pride in his voice. "I'm hoping for promotion. And I'm responsible for your assessment."

I fought back a growing sense of unease. "What are you doing this for?"

"All part of the process," the man said. "Shall we get started?" He took out an old-fashioned ledger and a pen from his desk drawer.

I shuffled my feet. "What do you need to know?"

"Well, how about we start with your earliest memories?"

"That might be a little difficult."

The man tapped his pen on the open ledger. "Shall we try what you think are your earliest memories? We can sort it out later. After all, we have plenty of time."

I settled back into my chair. "Alright. The earliest thing I can remember is my parents - Hang on!" I realised what it wa that was bothering me. "What is this place?"

"That's not important," The man behind the desk paused in his note taking. "Please continue."

I stood up. "No. Not until someone tells me what is going on!"

"It's part of the -"

"Process. Yes. I know. Tell me what this is about!"

"I'm not allowed to. Now - please. You were saying about your parents?"

"Oh no! I want to speak to your supervisor." I started to pace back and forth infant of the desk. "You supervisor? Are they behind one of these doors? This one?"

The man protested. "I wouldn't do that!" But I ignored him and made for the nearest door, opening it.

In front of me was another room, identical to the one I had just left, with an identical man sitting behind an identical desk.

"Come in. Sit down."