Short Story: Eye Patch Week

I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.

It sees the past.

I know this isn’t ‘normal‘, not when Uncle James is so determined to make sure I keep my black eye a secret. But it makes me wonder… what is normal?

It’s time for an experiment.

As far as I know, my black eye is the only un-normal thing about me, so if I cover it up, I’ll be normal, right?

For one week, I wear an eye patch over my black eye, even during school, because what’s the point of the experiment if I’m not consistent about it?

What I find is that rather than help me feel normal, the eye patch makes me stand out instead. People flock to me to ask about my eye, even people I’m not very familiar with, and I find myself having to lie over and over again about an eye injury that doesn’t exist. And, through it all, my black eye continues to see the past.

The eye patch week ends up becoming the most un-normal week of my life. I end the week by dumping the eye patch into the thrash so I’ll never see it again.

I might not be ‘normal’, but I have my own version of normal, and that’s good enough for me.



Genre: slice of life, fantasy

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