I slept for most of the afternoon, waking when it got cold enough that even the sweater wasn’t enough. I turned over onto my right side and closed my left eye, looking at the tops of the blades of grass through my right eye. I like doing that. It makes a weird little close-up world all of its own.
I was being amazed at the brown of the dirt, and how the grass blades go from white at the bottom to deep green at the top when I realized that, a couple of feet away, there was a tiny, almost invisible patch of blue.
I immediately boosted myself up on my elbows and looked over the top of the lawn, but I couldn’t see anything blue at all. The grass was perfectly level, mowed just yesterday. I lay back down and looked again. It took me a while to find it, but there it was. I kept my one eye open and focused on it as I inched along on my knees and elbows.
I finally found it. It was another eye. Well, just the eye itself. The sightless, watery blue iris had been staring at me staring at it. The googly stuff that I guess sticks it into the head was already dry and getting goopy, but I picked it up anyway. I think it wasn’t human. It wasn’t round, and the pupil wasn’t a circle.
I put it in my pocket and picked up my blanket.
Trite, I know. What can you do?