Our depth fields are weakening in reaction to the limited space. I’ve tried everything: the games, the headsets, holding my gaze on the pinpricks of light through the rendered porthole, but nothing works. Everything’s flattening out. My hand looks less substantial when I hold it inches from my face; I can’t believe what’s inside it really exists. I contain nothing. Soon the whole ship will be in two dimensions, like moving through a painting.
