Robert had Lasik done awhile ago, so long ago now that he has to wear glasses again, which is apparently a thing that happens. He would occasionally wear glasses anyway, for their intimidating effect, which was powerful enough to work on me even though I knew they were props. He told us about the process, which he found beyond odd: the laser man talked to him the whole time his cornea was off, complimenting him on the brilliant color of his iris, now unencumbered by its protective scale.
He told me that story when I first met him, too long ago to even remember when that was exactly, and I’ve probably thought about it one or twice a week ever since: a man who is always in some way unsatisfied with the human eyes he sees, who knows that there is some undiscovered color beneath those shells, a shell he knows is easy, so easy, to pull away.
There’s a 30 minute television horror episode in this one, somewhere. Assuming that they still do those. On cable, maybe? Yeah, probably on cable.