OUT OF FOCUS
It looked like it was just going to be one of those days. Her eyes were bleary, no doubt because her contact lenses had become fused to her eyes overnight after nearly sixteen more hours of overtime usage than was generally approved of.
She did not have leave-in lenses, but she had out of necessity, left them in and now it seemed as though they might have become a permanent part of her eyeballs.
As she stepped out into the brightly lit afternoon, the last afternoon of September, she realized the dire nature of the situation. The world had been reduced to a smear of its normal self, a strange abstract painting where everything was familiar, but offsetting at the same time.
She slowly made her way along the side walk, mostly by instinct, and was careful not to shuffle her feet too much for fear of tripping herself up. It was destined to be a slow walk home for sure.
Not a walk of shame by any means, just one filled with an abundance of caution thanks to the growing awareness that she really could not make out much of what surrounded her.
She found her other senses growing more keen. She could smell a distant piece of meat grilling on a barbecue. She could feel the cool breeze dancing across her face. She could taste the crisp morning on her fuzzy tongue. Mostly, she could hear the trilling call of birdsong and the aggressive rush of passing traffic.
It was a situation that was far from ideal, but as she flashed back to the previous night, she realized that it was worth it. She would make it home in one piece, through the careful application of hearing, and a special focus on her surroundings.
Yes the world was in a blur, but it probably would have been regardless.
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