Geoff Dyer, 2 April 2014
‘Something’s happened to my eye,’ I called out to my wife. She was in the bedroom but she too had semi-disappeared. I could see half of her body but her face had gone. I thumped myself lightly on the side of the head as if that might knock everything back into place, dislodge the opaque filter that had come between me – though even the idea of there being a me had become less certain than usual – and the world. I was getting confused as I tried to make sense of this insubstantial world in which things were and were not.