ONE
Granjy’s eyes punish.
They threaten, warn, scold and torment me. Blind and blinding, milky-white like acetylene, they cut deep into me; the agony is every bit as excruciating.
I’m the only one that can see them, as clear as day - as clearly as I see that light-switch, or that chair, or those curtains. I see them all the time.
Nobody else even knows they’re there – nobody sees them; but one day, maybe soon, maybe not so, they will. They’ll all see them, and they’ll know, just like ...
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