He could sit and watch TV a bit but it was too risky being so close to the coffee table and its precious contents.  He stared around, hoping to find something to take his mind off of his obvious pastime, but he kept drawing a blank.  Of course there must be something else in this house, something that was just waiting to be discovered to be done.  Just analyze the surroundings he told himself, use all of your senses, even your imagination.  A pink elephant immediately popped into his head and was just as quickly discarded.  Talking to a friend on a non-existent phone, a joyous conversation, the whir of passing traffic, the sighing of a breeze, a hint of a shadow, a picture by the door, the creak of the staircase, the light in the room spreading evenly, neither glaring nor too dark, the traces of perfume half-remembered from the past.  He could think of nothing else.  Clearly his houseful of nothing was not much help.