7.) MY SOUL-EYE CAN'T CLOSE

It can't, you know, without my dying. It opened far too early. I was only eleven years old when my "sight" was enhanced by the unexpected opening of the eye behind my browline. It made things, natural things beautiful. I could see trees stretching skyward and the rapidly beating heart of the sparrow in its ribs. Skies bluer or greyer or clearer or cloudier - I remember the first Texas thunderstorm I saw with my newly uncovered eye. Oh, so tall the clouds, so bright the lightning and how tiny I was in the thunder-clap. Everything looked as it had the day before but nothing was the same. I could see my dog's love for me like a bright shadow that smeared the space behind him as he jumped at my feet. I knew the colors of joy.

People fared far less well. My "truer" sight of them revealed the many darker shadows they dragged behind them. Fear and Fear's ugly children - Rage, Anger, Hatred, Stupidity, Envy, Suffering, Hurt, Betrayal, Shame - the yellow and green of old bruising.

I found myself shying away from encounters with people I didn't know. Fewer surprises that way. I also spent as little time with figures of authority as I could manage. Preacher man, teacher, politician, doctor, lawyer - the more practiced their treatment of their fellow man, the darker and more deeply layered the "Fear garment" they wrapped themselves in.

I would have blinded my soul eye if I'd known how, Over my adult life I've tried - alcohol, drugs, sex - all just attempts at gouging out the eye that lets me see too clearly.

The dirtiest trick my soul eye played was to reveal the tenuous nature of the Faith that surrounded me. Where I expected Faith solid as mountains I saw Fear. Where Fear was not - in its place stood Delusion.

With my own Fear in place, I scan each face I see.