Carl blinked. He knew what time it was, and where he was, and all his senses were cooperating with him, but were nonetheless clouded by a thick veneer of the past. He was a time traveller, and all the sidewalks and intersections and cars around him a hologram, a projection, a space he could touch and feel, but did not believe in.
The sun cast a harsh spotlight on his world, angry shadows clashing against the bright white-gray of the pavement. He was walking, he knew that much, and he knew to where he was walking, the drug store, but the why eluded him. Why was he? Where was he? When was he, truly?
And he blinked, and there was all the transaction gone: walking inside, grabbing his things, asking for his medication, six pounds & three pence please, and then there he was again on the sidewalk: surrounded by people, but deathly alone.