I exit my room to see a floating sphere. Not sure if it has a material. More of a texture, a sort of matte grain. I don’t ever touch the sphere, I just gape at its presence while standing in place. Eventually the sphere starts scaling so big, slowly and silently. I realize that it will continue growing and begin to panic. Everyone else is asleep.

The sphere is approaching the size of the hallway and I’m trapped. It passes the bounds of the walls and ceilings. Instead of destroying the structure, the sphere just replaces it.

I can’t leave, so I embrace the sphere. When it reaches my body, I enter it. During my passage, I feel the weight and touch of the sphere, but am not ever physically displaced. Inside is nothing.


I’m in an enclosed space, often the hallway outside my room again. I begin to walk, but the displacement is not one-to-one with my movement. With every step, I travel long distances.

Soon after, I am not controlling my movement at all. I am just going. I don’t feel the world move below me, I just see the environment passing by in a zero-g spectator experience.

It’s moving faster and faster. I’m going so fast and I think I’m going to crash. But there’s nothing to collide into at this point. I’m now traveling through these empty colorscapes.

The motion starts glitching and refreshing. My speed is continuously increasing between scenes, but the surroundings abruptly switch. Impossibly fast.


I’m lying down with my head propped up and I can see down the length my body. My hands and feet are so far away, like they’ve been stretched to the end of a corridor. I can feel my extremities, but the connecting limbs feel empty in space.

Other parts of my body are not really there either. My hands and feet aren’t exactly floating — I can see everything visually but get no sensation of touch or feeling.

If I close my eyes, I can stretch even farther.