The drab plastic prefab walls are draped in black velvet. A series of bug-zappers suspended from the ceiling bathe the room in a sickly blue light, punctuated by the repetitive blinding flash of a concealed strobe. Each stab of light provides an instant of harsh illumination. The low-slung couch shoved against the far wall, the plain wooden chairs grouped about a table fashioned from a broken concrete slab, the small iron cage in the corner. Another flash of light reveals a gap in the fabric on the north side of the room. The heavy velvet on the east wall rustles slightly now and then, as if moved by a breeze.