Glasses - July 13, 2012

[note: this was written during a writing exercise: we had 20 minutes to write something inspired by the word "glasses". This is the result, unedited, exactly as it appeared when time ran out. You can read all of them in the waves category]]

Glasses - Squiddy Geiger - July 13, 2012

Joe put on his glasses and opened his book, searching for the place he'd left off. His eyes blurred, then focused, but not quite right. He read, but couldn't place any of the stuff. He was sure he'd finished the chapter, but the last few paragraphs looked different. He checked the front of the book. Yes, right book.

His eyes blurred again, feeling focused but different, like a new pair of glasses, distinct but somehow wrong. He took his glasses off, and got the normally blurry world of his uncorrected vision. He put the glasses - an pair he'd owned for about two years - on again, and the sensation continued.

He tried reading again, but the story made no sense; he'd been reading about ranchers on the Canadian prairies, and this book was prattling on about the End being close. How the hell that fit in with the novel, he couldn't see.

"Phaedra, honey! Did you switch books on me?" he called to his wife in the other room. She came in to see what he wanted.

"I didn't touch your book, dear," she replied. "Let me see that." She read a bit, and shook her head. "This is right, I read it last week and it looks the same now. You're at the part where Bill is rounding up strays after the blizzard." She gave the book back and went into the other room again.

"What? Ok, fine," he said and started reading, but it was still the same weird stuff. He kept reading though, compelled by something. When the book addressed him by name, he dropped it. He picked it up again, and look at it.

<>

Joe growled, and put the book down again. He went into the bathroom, a bit shaken, and splashed water on his face. He looked at his glasses, that didn't seem to feel right. There were some smudges on them, so he rinsed them and dried them, and went back to the living room.

He picked up the book again, and started reading, happily discovering that Bill was, indeed, rounding up stray cattle after the blizzard. He shook off the incident as a daydream and kept reading. He was deep in the next chapter, and didn't notice as he and the rest of the world blinked into nothingness.

Posted by Squiddy at July 13, 2012 08:45 PM | TrackBack