Not long ago, a month or two back, I thought it was about time that I got my eyes tested, cos I wasn't believing what I was seeing. (Last bit, just an off the wall comment, no relationship to the actual sentence)
It was certainly an altogether interesting perspective that one picks up at the opticians. They say that the eyes are mirrors into the soul within, or, if you look closely into someones eyes, you can see something of their character inside.
I walked into the room where the tests were to be conducted, no windows, a few funny contraptions and was greeted by this amiable gentleman in his late forties, bit plump, and dreadfully polite. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked me to sit down in the chair facing the wall with the lighted screen on it with letters of various sizes on it. He then apologised for asking me to put on those strange goofy spectacles and proceeded there-on to do a variey of tests, some of which befaddled my mind, the distinction between the one inserted lense being better than the other being so close.
He then gets this rather bright torch, like a maglite, and tells me where to look, up, down, sideways etc, whilst at the same time peering into my eye sockets from about 2 inches away. Hmmmmm. I did do my best to sit absolutely still, but it was a bit strange having this fella sitting so close his knees would occassionally make contact with my legs.
I promptly moved my leg ever so slightly away, whilst still trying to concentrate on looking straight past the very bright beam. His face, only two inches away, I was ever so glad his breath didn't smell, I gulped nervously, realising that he might be thinking the same thing, but not drawing the same conclusion. The banality of it all.
Celtic