i keep a spare contact case in my purse, in case one rips or i have to go to sleep, or for some other reason need to take them out.

i haven't used it in a while; as a result, when i tried to put my contacts in it last night, there was very little fluid. as a result of that, one of my contacts was all shrivelly and dried this morning when i attempted to put them back in.

i walked home, half-blind, the world strange and distorted. with semi-monocular vision, i attempted to navigate tree roots and sidewalks. the dirt had something sparkly in it, and in my blurry state, the ground seemed alive with little glittered rings.

it reminded me of when i was younger. the doctor had walked slowly into the little cramped room where my mother and i waited.

"you do know that your daughter can't see, don't you?"

several tests and a pink-and-aqua pair of glasses later, i discovered the world anew. i marveled at the crisp outlines of leaves on the trees and the ability to recognize friends across the schoolyard.
but i always took my glasses off when i looked at the stars. i liked them better as soft nebulous orbs, rather than tiny sharp points that seemed to wound the sky. every other part of my life became better and more exciting when i saw it clearly, but i loved the hazy stars.