Story Time

Once upon a time, there lived a fantastic young woman with a prosthetic right eye. This brilliant girl was a student of English literature and had a Women's Literature class. In said class, the professor enjoyed having everyone sit in a circle to acknowledge they all respected each other as peers. Also, she had diabolically discovered this was a way of keeping students' attention, as they were robbed of their ability to surreptitiously text message their friends while pretending to pay attention to her lectures.

Before I proceed beyond this point, I must tell you that this astounding girl of extraordinary intellect didn't have a complete glass eye. Rather, it's more like a tiddlywink-hard-contact with an eye painted on. (And it's so genuine that 98% of people don't even realize it's a fake) Anyway, it feels much the same as a hard contact lens.

In this Women's Lit class, tardiness was a peril--because tardiness meant the late party had to assume the last available seat in the circle, which was--you guessed it--the seat to the immediate left of the professor.

Now this prosthetic reacts much as contacts do to material (e.g. eyelashes, dust) that gets caught underneath it. To be short, it makes the wearer feel as though a cat with viciously long claws is scratching the surface of their eyeball. The natural reaction, of course, is to remove the offending material.

On this particular crisp day in November, the heroine of our story got distracted crunching leaves and found herself arriving late to Women's Lit. On this day, the class had been assigned a particularly confundling story by Toni Morrison to discuss. All eyes were already trained anxiously on the professor when our protagonist traipsed into class. She plopped down in the chair, pulled out her anthology, and promptly began to feel a horrendous irritation in her eye.

Naturally, she did what she deemed best: she began to subtly scoop her fingernail under her prosthetic to remove the offending particle. But oh no! disaster occurred when she unwittingly pulled her bottom eyelid down just a fraction too far. The prosthetic began to slip. Trying to stay as calm as possible and not look out of place, she frantically tried to poke her eye back into its proper place in her socket, but to no avail! Finally, she remained composed and casually let it slip into her hand.

At this point, it may be noted, the entire class had shifted its attention from the professor to the drama occurring to the immediate left of said professor. Every member of that class witnessed the descent of the fake eye into the student's hand. (And many jealous girls envied her composure in such a potentially embarrassing situation) This remarkable girl stood up, quietly excused herself, and strolled to the bathroom--where she rinsed out both eye socket and fake eye.

After class, the girls all remarked to her how composed she had been and how utterly disgusting it had been to watch her eye fall out.

All of the boys asked if they could see it again.

THE END