I stared at the words on my computer for long enough that the dimensions beyond the edges of the screen started to play tricks on my perception—slanting away at one angle and then another, zooming out and then in.
I leaned back, exhaled hard so my cheeks blew out like balloons, and pushed myself away from the desk, rolling in the wheeled chair.
I looked at things to the left and to the right—a stack of books, a coffee mug. I stared at the real-world objects and concentrated until my perception seemed to be back to normal. Then I pulled myself to the desk and started typing again.
Are you sure you didn't enter another dimension?