THE AGE OF EYES
The yellow eye was blind; light could not enter it. I saw it when I closed my own eyes, when I prepared myself for a collision, when I lay down intoxicated. I saw it in the noontime sky and I saw it when I dug in the sand. When I saw larger eyes, oval eyes, seeing eyes and hanging eyes I often saw the yellow eye standing behind them, standing back, not obtruding.
The yellow eye was neither friendly nor unfriendly. It never frightened me unless I was trying to think of no eye at all; then it hung on stubbornly. Then I really could not stand it and I would scream into my pillow if I was in bed or into my hands if I was in the schoolyard or at the table.
Later, when the Age of Eyes had ended, I wondered if I had not made a proof of my touristic sensibility by regarding the yellow eye with such incomprehension. Zero understanding, you might say, and you would be right.