As if subtle windows lined up, he suddenly seemed able to see much further, but it was not the depth that impressed him so much as the cut-off views to the side of those distant, newly-revealed apertures. These were once habitations, and in a sense they still are. They are still being lived but he is no longer a part of their life - and just happens to be viewing them from this particular draughty aperture, this place of no story, open and insufficient.