Space

He walked down the hall, looking straight ahead. Plain as day

The strangest thing was happening. As the hall grew shorter, the walls became wider. No, that can't be. Walls don't just expand. Must've just been his tunnel vision.

The vast expanses of time and space were reflected in his empty eyes, a window left open

He walked down the street, looking nearly straight ahead, his eyes never leaving the horizon.
People
People with dogs
People with phones
People with slowly stiffening necks
People with groceries
People with purpose
People with handbags and loud shoes and a place they need to be

Simply passed by as he looked toward the horizon.

The horizon isn't ever straight ahead. It's perpetually at a slightly downward glance; to say that he looked straight ahead isn't entirely accurate.

When he looked this way, it was never with a song in his head or a nagging thought on his mind. It was the absence of such things that made the gaze impenetrable. A truly clean slate, a vacuous mind.

The steps measured somewhere in the tens of thousands, the blocks in the dozens. When he closed the window and let the world in, he found himself at an unfamiliar location, right where he intended to be. He set his jacket down on the same chair he did every day.

Drying his hands of the cold water that slammed closed the window, he felt

He felt.