Myopic

One day, I was driving along a familiar road. Dusk tinted my vision with its greyish-blue shade. The street and city lights appeared dimmer against a sky which had not yet become completely dark.

Suddenly, I realised that every road sign along the way was blurry. I could barely make out road names, or read the number plates of cars in front. The green and red traffic lights smeared beyond neat round circles. I wondered, how many times had I driven home along this road, assuming that I could read speed signs, when what I was doing was actually relying on memorised speed limits? How often did I walked past these restaurants, without being able to read their neon-lit names?

Was my window foggy or dirty? Was it because I was used to driving at broad daylight or in deep darkness, but nothing in between? Is something wrong, did I sleep too little, were my eyes puffy or blurry from tears, did I need new contacts - but how can that be when I just started wearing fresh ones recently? The more worrying question was, how could I have not noticed the extent of blurriness in my vision, for surely it had been a gradual decline! Did I spend too much time looking at what was directly in front of me, was I too absorbed in singing (screeching) along to melodious emo pop songs while I drove, or too often lived within the landscape of my emotions and thoughts rather than in reality, that I had stopped seeing and noticing my surroundings?

One night, I wore the stronger prescription glasses, and turned off the bathroom lights. By chance my head was tilted towards the window panel above (which I completely forgot existed). I felt a flutter of delight and amazement at the stars above - I could not recall when I last had the acuity to clearly pick out those small, silver dots of brightness in the night sky.