Monday, December 30, 2013

MARNETHIAS

The question in Poll No 41 in the original Eye Scene Glasses Chat (February 1998) was:
"Did you resist wearing glasses? If so, what changed your mind?"
This story developed out of that, and is now offered in a slightly touched-up form.


MARNETHIAS


By PHANTOM

Woe unto them that defy Divine Providence!!!
Blessed are they that resist the devices of the Evil One!!!
Verily, it is laid upon me that I prophesy, and speak, and warn them 
that seek to see that which GOD hath decreed they shall not see. 

By using spectacles and other the like snares of the Enemy, 
they walk in the ways of our first parents who sought that which was forbidden, 
and ate the fruit that GOD had decreed they should not eat.

Abbi with myodisc glasses

Abbi with myodisc glasses

Ann’s Business

By R.H. Hamilton

"Just let me check one more thing and we're finished."
"Okay Doc, what are you looking for now?"
"Just a routine check on the retina hold still...okay let me add this to your file and we can see about your new glasses."
"You mean lenses don't you? Contacts?"
"No I mean glasses, Ann for two years I've been warning you about this, I was afraid that if you continued to wear contacts you will lose what vision you have left. I'm sorry but it’s for your own good, go to another specialist if you want to but if they are any good they will say the same thing."

"Doc you don't understand if I have to wear glasses I can't do my work!"
"Ann I've known for a long time what type of work you do, don't you think its time to..."
"Doc just give me my bill, I don't need another sermon!"
"No you don't, and you won't get one from me. There's no charge, but please think about what I said."
Glasses...glasses...glasses the word pounded in her head while she waited for a cab. She visualized herself with thick 'coke bottles' opening the door to a clients room and having it closed on her. NO WAY!

Stories about Deborah 2

Deborah 2 by Andy

(Deborah 1 is here)

posted 30 December 1999 09:12

Here is another fiction on how the pictures of Deborah might have taken their way to Bobbie's galleries.
Well here is another fictive story about Deborah.

Debby looked at her picture in the mirror. She was not pleased at all what she saw. She was sad with her look. Her hair was long, maybe a little bit too long and she didnt like the ash blonde colour. She felt that something had to be done about her looks. But it was not only her hairs that she didnt like. It were these awful heavy lensed glasses that were so prominent on her nose. She felt very uncomfortable about them. She was completely blind without her glasses. With bitterness she remembered various unpleasant occasions when she had lost them in the past. She pushed them up her nose because they still kept on sliding down her nose. She had to see the optician to get them adjusted. 

The Cadet

by Specs4ever

Lacey had been a patient of mine for a number of years. Her first prescription was around –1.25D when she was 14, and now at age 22 she was presently wearing contacts with a –3.50D power. Lacey was a very pretty young lady, tall and slim, with very attractive features, and nice short brown hair and medium brown eyes. She had called last week for an appointment, and I escorted her into the examination room.
“Well Lacey, do you need a new prescription?” I asked.
“I don’t think so Doc, but you do this Oker - okertherapudic stuff don’t you?” she asked.
“You mean okertherapy?” I replied.

The Broken Lens

by Specs4ever

From the time he was a child Fred was the closest thing to a scam artist I had ever seen. He could con another classmate out of his lunch, he could horse trade better than anyone I had ever seen, and he could actually convince a teacher that his dog had eaten his homework. It helped that Fred was an angelic looking boy, and as he grew older he was almost considered beautiful. This was not what most guys wanted for themselves, but when Fred was selling things at over inflated prices to little old ladies that probably couldn't really afford the items, being a beautiful looking boy certainly helped.
Fred was often just a short step ahead of the law. But even when the law did catch up with Fred, nothing seemed to happen. He always walked that very fine line that bordered on the illegal. Even when his driveway sealant washed off in the first rainstorm, all the customers could do was complain to the better business bureau.

The Bride Wore Myodiscs

by Specs4ever 

And here we have the sequel to the Bridesmaid WoreMyodiscs. This is new, fresh from my wonderful editor. And to those of my friends and acquaintances who have asked if this is a true story from my life, I must advise you all that alas, it is only a figment of my imagination, and while I sort of wish that the story could be true, unfortunately it is not. So enjoy.

To meet Linda again at the wedding was more than just a coincidence, it seemed like fate. We talked for a long time, reminiscing about old times, and then, we danced. I had Linda speak to Chuck and Sally to get their approval, as I didn’t want to get into trouble with my boss. I don’t know what she said, but for the rest of the evening, I became an honored guest, instead of the limo driver. 

When the time came for me to take Chuck and Sally to the airport, Linda asked if she could come along for the ride. We drove to the airport with Chuck and Sally in the rear, with the divider up, and Linda and I sitting in the front. After we dropped the happy couple off at their airport hotel, Linda and I returned to her motel. Linda didn’t want me to go yet, but I also got the vibes from her that she didn’t want to invite me into her room. So we went over to a nearby coffee shop. 

The Bridesmaid Wore Myodiscs

by Specs4ever

For the past few years I have been hanging around the southwest. For a person that was identified as a genius, with an extremely high I.Q., I should probably be ashamed of the way I have wasted my life, but for the most part, I have spent my life doing exactly what I wanted to. I left high school with my diploma, but it was only due to the kindness of my algebra instructor, who must have marked me using an extraordinary bell curve. I have drifted from place to place, almost as if I were searching for something, and it is only in the past few years that I have gradually begun to realize that what I am searching for probably exists only in my mind. Although I must admit that I have been thinking more and more about what my life would have been like if I had married the girl I was going with in high school. She was about 5' 2", with short dark brown hair, and large chocolate brown eyes. She was a little plump, cuddly, and vivacious. She was my steady girl and we were pretty serious. But, my parents talked me out of going with her, because she was very nearsighted and wore thick coke-bottle glasses. My mom kept harping at me that if I should marry her and have children, they would have bad eyes like Linda's. So, when we finished high school, we went our separate ways.

Another’s Tale

by Specs4ever

Part 1:
I leaned back from the computer keyboard and waited for the program that saved my data to the rewritable CD to finish. Then I could erase everything from the computer, and hide all traces of what I had been doing. I pushed my new –16D glasses tighter to the bridge of my nose, so that I could see the computer screen better. Once my data had been saved, I went back to the disc, and made sure I could open everything from the data disc. Then, and only then could I wipe out any evidence of me having been on the computer. I had been forced to save all my data this way since I experienced a computer crash in the fall of 2004. This crash had left me with no way to recover my thoughts and writings from the previous year, but fortunately I had saved all my diaries from the age of 8, and I was able to reconstruct almost everything else from memory.

Another Life To Live

by Specs4ever

I had been driving a truck for over 20 years. When I decided to retire early, I had tried to stay away from the life of a truck driver. Unfortunately, I had not been succeeding too well. I would find a day job that seemed to be satisfactory, and I would work at it for a few months, until the expenses exceeded the income. Once that happened, I would usually pick up another truck driving job.

I had hired on with a local company that ran refrigerated freight across the country. I have never liked driving with a partner, but to do this job, I was going to have to learn to accept it. And, Bob, my partner seemed to be a pretty nice person. He and I talked about how I could never sleep properly when the truck was bouncing up and down the road, and he agreed that if I felt tired during my shift, it was best that I pull over and get some sleep, no matter what our schedule was. So, as time went on, I eventually became tired enough that I was able to sleep for a while when it was my turn in the sleeper berth. And, for the most part, I was able to pull my own weight, and drive my whole 4 hour shift.

One day Bob and I had stopped for lunch in Oklahoma City, and when we returned to the truck, Bob climbed into the bunk. I drove for a couple of hours, when I was overcome by a bout of nausea. I quickly pulled over to the shoulder, jumped out, and left the remains of my meal on the side of the road. Food poisoning was the first thought that came to mind. Bob woke as I was retching my guts out, and he offered to drive for a while, so I climbed into the bed.

An Insane Desire

by Spec4ever

I was sitting in the mall, just off to the side of the entrance to Eyecrafters, a one hour spectacle shop. I was quite comfortable, wearing my regular old thick plastic -20’s instead of the normal hi index glasses I usually wear. As I read the National Star, laughing at the unbelievable trash they wrote, I noticed a rather pretty young lady glancing my way, as she walked towards the optical store. It looked as though she noticed me stare back at her, and she glanced away, so I hid my nose back in the paper. She came up and sat down at the other end of my bench. Not surprising, since that was the only bench, but I thought that my imagination was working overtime, and she was watching me. With a –20D correction, peripheral vision is not really great, so I was trying to get a better look at her when all of a sudden I realized that it was my glasses she was looking at. I whipped them off - held them out to her and told her they were –20D plastic lenses, and that she was welcome to take a close look at them if she wished. She sort of stammered, and stuttered, but took the glasses and gave them a thorough going over. Since I had my implants done, I am really blind without glasses, so after a minute or so I mentioned that I really needed them back if she was through with them. She handed them back to me, and I was able to get a good look at her. I thought that she was about 17, very attractive, with long brown hair tied back in a pony tail. She was wearing a rather becoming typical pair of oval framed wire rimmed glasses in about a –5D. 

A Myopically Induced Tale

by Specs4ever

"Tomorrow I am going to do it." Tracey muttered under her breath. " I am going to put my glasses on first thing in the morning, and wear them all day. I don’t care what anyone says."

Tracey, wearing her glasses, limped down the stairs from her bedroom in her grandmother’s small 2-storey house. Her grandmother was waiting at the dinner table for Tracey to get there before she dished up supper.

"Well, I made it down the stairs again Gran. I sure will be glad when the cast is off this darned ankle." Tracey said.
"So will Lady." Her grandmother replied, and with the mention of her name a tail started thumping rapidly on the floor. "Oh, I see you are wearing your new glasses dear. They look very nice on you."

A Good Deed Rewarded

by Specs4ever

As I approached the top of the ramp, I was gearing down to stop at the stop sign. I glanced to my right, at the old blue extended cab pickup parked off on the right shoulder, where it could be easily seen by people exiting the highway as I had just done, or by motorists who were entering the interstate to head on to California. I noticed that the old truck had a full camper type protective cover, and I could see through the windows that the bed of the truck was crammed full of belongings. I took another quick look at the person standing against the truck, holding a crude hand lettered sign that read, “out of gas, no money, please help.” This was nothing that surprised me, as normally both off and on ramps at this interchange are filled with people begging for money. And, I work darned hard for my money, so I hardly ever give a second glance at the beggar.

This time I noticed that it was a lady, mid fifties, a little plump, and wearing a pair of late 80’s, early 90’s plastic framed glasses, with what looked to me to be a reasonably substantial minus prescription. Here was a quandary for me. I wanted to stop, but I had no time.

The Advice Columnist

By Specs4ever

As the editor of the weekly Free Press Tribune, I am pleased to introduce to you, the reader, our newest member of the writing community. To some, he needs no introduction. To others, please help me, in welcoming to the wonderful world of newsprint, the writer known as “Specs4ever”. Specs4ever will be writing a weekly advice column for those readers amongst us who wear glasses.

The preceding introduction gives me a build up that probably isn’t deserved. Until this point, I have been writing fictional stories about girls and women who wear strong glasses. I am unsure as to how this will translate into writing a weekly column giving advice to those readers who wear glasses, but I am certainly willing to give it a try. For this, my first column, one of our readers has written: