Fine lines smudged into a blur.
Colors soaking into one another, while light and shadow played off of each other in a hazy smudge.
This is how the young man saw the world with his bad eyes.
With his poor vision.
Poor because he couldn’t see far off.
Poor because he couldn’t focus.
So, on the day that he got his new lenses, his heart sank.
No more floating color scenes.
No more dreamlike haze.
Desperate to see what he once saw, he purchased a canvas and paint.
He smoothed and blended his creation into a view from his past.
And he sat in front of it, wishing.
Wishing to go back.
More comfortable with his shortsightedness.
Before he saw the world for what it really was.
With this new, clear vision, he sat and painted pictures of the past.