I imagine a clinical space, euphemistically disguised as a pleasant waiting room with soft Muzak playing in the background. But there is no waiting, the space itself is the final station. No longer on the proverbial journey of a thousand steps, you have arrived. The room is death. Space as death. The eternal nothingness disguised as infinity. While you die a vacuum erases everything, slowly drawing closer, the last one you, or perhaps the voice of a loved one, and there you go….