Optical Olympics

Earlier that week I had began training my eyes for the upcoming events. Mainly during the day they remained opened and at night, they sat in darkness. Once the day came, my eyes were as tuned as a harp. The first test was a color blind test: passed. Next, depth perception: by far the swankiest. Then, reading: Cake. And then the main event: a relay in which only myself participated. First leg was field of vision, I usually cheat a bit on this one, and it helped this time. Second, the most relaxing, stare at a small house in a Midwest field with blue skies. And lastly, and they saved the best for last, the sweating chair. This is a place where my hands get clammy, my knees shake, but my eyes are sleeping on a cushion in a white squall. A not so gentle puff of air directly into my eyeball. Freaking sucks. I shake and jump and the doctor has to ask, “are you alright?” Don’t ask, just shoot, my eyes have trained on the steps of Philadelphia for this sweating chair.