Myopia

Still a novice to the specialized behavior of big-cityfolk, she walked through the streets wide-eyed and smiling. They glowered at her, demanding with their scowls that she lower her gaze. Grumpy New Yorkers, she thought unaffected. They needed to loosen up. After all, wouldn't it have been more polite to return a smile with another? She vowed to continue to spread goodwill.

Still, she loved to people-watch. On the subways, there were many sights to behold. People from all walks of life, each undoubtedly with their own stories to tell, rode the rail silently. Their faces, in stark contrast to the flashing lights and screeching sounds of metal against metal, were remained unmoving. Their eyes were glazed, and never focused directly upon another's. She explored the scene innocently and wondered how so many people, standing so close together, could be so distant from one another.

She spotted an empty seat and cheerfully asked to sit there. Her neighbors uttered no response and made no physical adjustments to accomodate her presence. She crammed her way in between the two heated bodies, sitting forward slightly to avoid further pushing. A gaudy advertisement caught her eye and she read it a few times over out of boredom. When the train suddenly lurched forward, her chin dropped, allowing her to lock eyes with a passenger seated directly in front of her.

At first, she half-smiled at the stranger. He appeared to be in a similarly cheerful mood -- his face sported a wide grin and his eyes flashed a brilliant liquid blue. She relaxed in her seat, content that she had found at least one other person who shared her optimism in this cold-hearted city. After what seemed to be an eternity, she became uneasy. The stranger's gaze had not changed. He continued to smile at her with the same intensity, as if the face he wore was a porcelin mask. The smile seemed less friendly now, and more sinister. She averted her gaze from his frozen, Joker-like face, in hopes that he would lose interest. In the end, she stood up and hurried to the opposite end of the train.

Finally, the train stopped. She caught sight of a horde of irate people on the platform edge, waiting for the doors to open. When the flood gates were released, she found herself being pushed back into the car. She fought her way against the surge of human bodies. Wrinkled old women, like a defensive football line descended upon her like some hated rival. Hands boldy out in front, they had begun shoving even before the train had come to a complete stop. Behind her, a young business man yelled, "Getting off here!" in an authoritative tone and thrusted her aside like a useless rag doll in his mad dash off the train. She gasped for air and violently heaved herself off the suffocating car.

On her six-block walk to the office that dreary morning, she maintained a steady focus on the dirty gray sidewalk in front of her. Agitated, she stomped across streets, paying little heed to traffic signals and fellow pedestrians.

"Watch where you're going!" someone growled at her along the way. She ignored him and plodded unhappily along.

She shook herself from her mean-spirited mood once she reached the office. In the lobby, she searched for his name on a worn metallic plaque on a dilapidated wall. She walked quickly to the elevator and summoned it. Seeing that no one else around, she breathed a sigh of relief and relished her short vacation from other humans. By the time the elevator began its ascent she was relaxed and happy again. In this reformed mood, perhaps she had the strength go back outside into the maddening crowd and return to the sanctuary of her home.

She looked up. The elevator stopped a few flights below her destination. She stepped back against the wall to allow more to enter. Three business people joined her in the elevator, all of them engaged in a heated discussion. Completely unaware of her presence, they cornered her into a tiny space in the back of the elevator. When it stopped on her floor, her noisy neighbors did not move to let her out. "Excuse me," her childlike voice attempted to compete with their booming ones. No response. She repeated herself, a little louder this time. Still no response. The doors began to close. "Excuse me!" she shrieked in panic. They halted their conversation and looked towards her as if she were a mad woman before they cleared an aisle to release her.

Paying no notice to the frightened, agitated and crying people in the waiting room, she bustled past the reception area and into his office, unannounced. She immediately burst into tears when she found him.

"Doctor, can you see me?" He nodded sympathetically and motioned for her to sit down before he shut the door behind her.

"... she goes through life as if it were a valley; she keeps meeting people all the time, and addressing them; but they look at her umcomprehendingly and walk on because her voice is low quiet that no one hears it ... she sees herself that way, too: as a woman walking through a valley among people who do not hear her."