Funny Eyes

I've had them all my life. They are set wrong, like salt and pepper shakers that want to season each other instead of the food. At the optometry school where the exams should be cheap but are instead pricey and long, they make me a curiosity, a case study. And so I place one hand over my left eye, one hand over the right. Over and over I place and remove demonstrating the rapidity of the jump, how I compensate, accomodate. How accomodating I am. I am tired and my vision is bleary and it frustrates me to say, again, I can't see the two crosses at once. I do not have strong binocular vision and I'll never see the magic eyes. I don't want to be a lab rat any more. And this is all before, long before, the health center. Where unasked for prescriptions are filled and my history is taken by a frowning woman with cold, demeaning eyes.