Photo by Bluewave.
A fellow at my workplace greeted me the other day.
‘What’s that?’ His forefinger tapped my right cheekbone.
‘What? What do you mean?’
His blue eyes stared down at me, unblinking, coming close to my face. I held my breath.
‘It’s a rough patch, the color of pre-cancerous skin.’
I suppose this was a gesture of care on his part, but it was Monday and not yet noon.
‘You should get that checked out’. The eyeball withdrew and its owner patted me sympathetically on the head.
I was doomed.