I have always worn glasses. Whenever I took them off, the world would double, triple, quadruple; everything would blur and jump around, and I would hastily cram my “second sight” back on. Therefore, as soon as I woke up, I would ram my glasses up my nose before even opening my eyes.
One perfectly normal morning, I woke up to the persistent crowing of Mr. Whitney, the king of our left-hand neighbor’s chicken flock. The steady hum of the kitchen toaster sent out an invitation to breakfast. To the right, a lawnmower was already making progress around a yard, spilling sweet grass clippings over the cropped lawn.
My fingers fumbled the bedside table for my glasses. Nothing. I continued to search, sliding my hand over the bed, lamp stand, and even the Bonsai pot. Guessing they had rolled off the table, I shook myself awake and opened my eyes.
I was staring at the floor but clearly saw, among other things, boxes, old videotapes, and discarded junk: my basement! But how was I in there? I touched the floor with my hand, uncertain whether I had to panic. My fingers felt carpet: soft, fluffy strands of any normal respectable carpet. I closed my eyes, counted till ten, and opened them again, looking up. I could see the attic’s dust and cobwebs, even though I clearly was still in my room. However, I also miraculously spotted the familiar crack in the plaster that ran along the ceiling. Shaking my head, I stomped to the mirror. I looked perfectly normal but….
An inkling of impossible truth ran across my fuzzy, sleepy and very confused brain. Of course, it could not be. However, all the “evidence” told me…. Yes, I was seeing through the walls. I could see through walls and blocks and any other obstruction! I was not in the basement, not in the attic; I was right in the middle of my room but seeing across the whole house. A real-life version of x-ray man, that’s what I was!
My face was split by a jubilant smile. Just imagine the possibilities! I never need lose at hide and seek again. I could peek at what other people were doing without the risk of getting found out. I’d be the one most feared by all the neighborhood kids. I could spy on the neighbors and all the office workers, doctors, teachers, children and pets to my heart’s content! Why did I ever wear these cursed glasses?! I twirled across the room in blissful exhilaration, plopped down onto the floor, and opened my eyes once again, preparing for a wonderful “spying session”.
Hundreds and thousands of humans stood up, all sleepy-eye and hair-tousled. They headed towards their messy cupboards and threw off their pajamas, debating what dress or sweater to put on. Millions stumbled to the shower, turning on the cold water at first (again!) and jumping back in unpleasant surprise. Hundreds stomped around rooms, flossing their teeth and brushing their hair. Quintillions impatiently waited for the toast to brown, smearing it with butter or jelly, dashing off to work or school with a half-uneaten sandwich, getting stuck in traffic, cursing at the GPS.
Hundreds in school, chatting with friends and peeking at answers, chewed the ends of erasers, fidgeting with pens and whirling spinners. Myriads at work, lazily poking at keyboards, were sneaking in looks at their favorite blogs and playing computer chess. People shouted and bickered. They complained about colds and office shifts, swatted flies and spilled lemonade. Humans spun lies left and right, telling tales behind others backs, stealing, sneering, ruining, tripping, all wearing fake smiles and making snide remarks. Couples argued and divorced and remarried and children fought over the last scoop of ice-cream or scrap of angel cake. Dogs ran and goldfinches madly chirped. Trash dumps overflowed with greasy wrappers and discarded junk. Chickens ran and Mr. Whitney fought with his rival rooster. Politicians chatted and lied, stole myriads of money and backstabbed “colleagues”. Wars were fought and finished, countries gaining enormous amounts of dollars.
My stomach cramped at the sight of the horrible atrocities, inhuman pain and suffering of myriads of creatures. I closed my eyes and threw myself on my bed with my arms stretched to the sides.
I felt warm calming hum of a sunbeam touching my fingers.
I was afraid to open my eyes to the spinning chaos of the world. Trying to sort everything out and put it back into the rigid willow-patterned categories everything belonged in, I felt my glasses right under my stomach. Slightly hesitating, I slowly moved them in front of my eyes, hooked them around my ears and opened my aching eyelids.
I could still hear the toaster and the lawn mower, but the walls around me were solid. Icould not see what my neighbors were doing or what Australia’s sharks were eating, but did I really need it?
Smiling to myself at the once more established normality, I headed over to my dresser searching for a roll of duct tape. I stuck the glasses to my head. The world was normally reduced to my inner problems, and I was just as good as blind to other creature’s lives. Checking that the glasses wouldn’t fall off, I pranced out of the room grinning as Mr. Whitney uttered a shrill squeak and fell silent.
#SOS18
One perfectly normal morning, I woke up to the persistent crowing of Mr. Whitney, the king of our left-hand neighbor’s chicken flock. The steady hum of the kitchen toaster sent out an invitation to breakfast. To the right, a lawnmower was already making progress around a yard, spilling sweet grass clippings over the cropped lawn.
My fingers fumbled the bedside table for my glasses. Nothing. I continued to search, sliding my hand over the bed, lamp stand, and even the Bonsai pot. Guessing they had rolled off the table, I shook myself awake and opened my eyes.
I was staring at the floor but clearly saw, among other things, boxes, old videotapes, and discarded junk: my basement! But how was I in there? I touched the floor with my hand, uncertain whether I had to panic. My fingers felt carpet: soft, fluffy strands of any normal respectable carpet. I closed my eyes, counted till ten, and opened them again, looking up. I could see the attic’s dust and cobwebs, even though I clearly was still in my room. However, I also miraculously spotted the familiar crack in the plaster that ran along the ceiling. Shaking my head, I stomped to the mirror. I looked perfectly normal but….
An inkling of impossible truth ran across my fuzzy, sleepy and very confused brain. Of course, it could not be. However, all the “evidence” told me…. Yes, I was seeing through the walls. I could see through walls and blocks and any other obstruction! I was not in the basement, not in the attic; I was right in the middle of my room but seeing across the whole house. A real-life version of x-ray man, that’s what I was!
My face was split by a jubilant smile. Just imagine the possibilities! I never need lose at hide and seek again. I could peek at what other people were doing without the risk of getting found out. I’d be the one most feared by all the neighborhood kids. I could spy on the neighbors and all the office workers, doctors, teachers, children and pets to my heart’s content! Why did I ever wear these cursed glasses?! I twirled across the room in blissful exhilaration, plopped down onto the floor, and opened my eyes once again, preparing for a wonderful “spying session”.
Hundreds and thousands of humans stood up, all sleepy-eye and hair-tousled. They headed towards their messy cupboards and threw off their pajamas, debating what dress or sweater to put on. Millions stumbled to the shower, turning on the cold water at first (again!) and jumping back in unpleasant surprise. Hundreds stomped around rooms, flossing their teeth and brushing their hair. Quintillions impatiently waited for the toast to brown, smearing it with butter or jelly, dashing off to work or school with a half-uneaten sandwich, getting stuck in traffic, cursing at the GPS.
Hundreds in school, chatting with friends and peeking at answers, chewed the ends of erasers, fidgeting with pens and whirling spinners. Myriads at work, lazily poking at keyboards, were sneaking in looks at their favorite blogs and playing computer chess. People shouted and bickered. They complained about colds and office shifts, swatted flies and spilled lemonade. Humans spun lies left and right, telling tales behind others backs, stealing, sneering, ruining, tripping, all wearing fake smiles and making snide remarks. Couples argued and divorced and remarried and children fought over the last scoop of ice-cream or scrap of angel cake. Dogs ran and goldfinches madly chirped. Trash dumps overflowed with greasy wrappers and discarded junk. Chickens ran and Mr. Whitney fought with his rival rooster. Politicians chatted and lied, stole myriads of money and backstabbed “colleagues”. Wars were fought and finished, countries gaining enormous amounts of dollars.
My stomach cramped at the sight of the horrible atrocities, inhuman pain and suffering of myriads of creatures. I closed my eyes and threw myself on my bed with my arms stretched to the sides.
I felt warm calming hum of a sunbeam touching my fingers.
I was afraid to open my eyes to the spinning chaos of the world. Trying to sort everything out and put it back into the rigid willow-patterned categories everything belonged in, I felt my glasses right under my stomach. Slightly hesitating, I slowly moved them in front of my eyes, hooked them around my ears and opened my aching eyelids.
I could still hear the toaster and the lawn mower, but the walls around me were solid. Icould not see what my neighbors were doing or what Australia’s sharks were eating, but did I really need it?
Smiling to myself at the once more established normality, I headed over to my dresser searching for a roll of duct tape. I stuck the glasses to my head. The world was normally reduced to my inner problems, and I was just as good as blind to other creature’s lives. Checking that the glasses wouldn’t fall off, I pranced out of the room grinning as Mr. Whitney uttered a shrill squeak and fell silent.
#SOS18
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15hensandarooster
Jul 02, 2018
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Uma Chirkova