When I shyly asked her about her dark lens in her glasses and the while cane she unfolded to my surprise, she smiled and simply said: "It is all about attitude. I mean positive attitude." From that moment, I admired her.

New glasses

 She bought glasses with a new type of lenses. The optician told her that the lenses would not be as thick as her old glasses had been. Little did she know how small the bowls in the centres of the lenses will be. She has two options now. Either wear the old pair with 2 cm thick lenses or wear the new ones with small circles. The first moment she saw herself was a shock.

Left eye covered

 She is used to wearing hair over her left eye because she can recognize only light and darkness with this eye. The left eye also turns to the inner corner, especially when she is tired. So, she hides it under her beautiful raven black hair. Although her glasses have identical lenses fitted, she is virtually oneeyed most of her life.

The Job

by Fredlr1

At 33 I was in a job that was going nowhere. I am a software engineer, and have won a few professional awards for my work. My job was getting stale. I was looking for a new challenge. I carefully followed the professional journals and local newspaper want-ads. I saw an ad that fit my qualifications and at the end it said: "First preference given to disabled."

I am not disabled but the job description was just what I had been looking for. It offered an opportunity to work in a field that had always fascinated me. I knew, with the recent economic slowdown and so many engineers out of work, there would be fierce competition for the job. I had the experience and educational qualifications but so did a whole lot of other people that were vying for the position. I decided I would have to add something that others did not have.

I scanned the Internet. I tried 'disabled,' 'crutches,' 'wheelchair.' When I found 'braces,' and the many Internet sites that explore the wearing of leg and body braces, I knew I had found my answer. There were several sites for people who were not disabled but wore braces for pleasure. Some wore full leg braces, some just ankle braces, some body braces, some neck braces, and some various combinations.

Icon “C”

By Susan

Elliot was on his way home. It would have been an understatement to say that he was in a good mood. He was in high spirits. He could have embraced the whole world. Within the next three weeks his most ardent desire would come true at last.

Today was Friday afternoon, and was a warm and sunny day. Actually it was the longest day in the year because it was summer solstice. He would take his girlfriend out to a dinner tonight to the Atlantic Point, the most elegant restaurant in town. They would sit outside and enjoy the magnificent view over the ocean and the sun plunging in the water as a big red ball. It would be time to let her into a secret that he had been carrying around with him for about a week. And it would be time to carry out a plan that he had borne in mind for months. This was a secret, which he could never tell her though it was mostly the reason for his effusive joy. She must never find out the truth.

The Storm

by Dieter

Aurora listened as the doctor spoke, “Your prescription has gone up about a half diopter this time. That’s not too bad considering your age. You’re still growing so I would expect a few more increases in the coming years. Other than that, your eyes are quite healthy and normal.” Into her own thoughts, Aurora sat quietly and gave no response. What could she say? Aurora had been wearing glasses since before kindergarten and she was the only one in her class for the first few years. In her 15 years, no one else had ever had glasses with a degree of strength anywhere close. What had she ever done to deserve this?

Cadence

by Dieter

"Meyer Honda, this is Cadence. May I help you?" the voice spoke pleasantly.

"Yes, do you carry Palmer Helmets?" I inquired.

"Yes, we do." she replied amiably.

"And do you carry parts for them?" I continued.

"Some," she countered patiently, "what model is the helmet?"

"Oh, I don’t remember" I responded having left the helmet locked to my motorbike in the parking lot.

"Best to bring it with you. We can order anything that we don’t have in stock" she explained with authority.

"Ok, thanks," I said prior to touching the "End" button on my phone.

Cadence. Wasn’t that an interesting name? Especially for a lady working at a motorcycle dealership. She had such a pleasing voice. It was clear, soothing, knowledgeable, yet in command. My mind imagined a pretty lady at the opposite end of the "phone line".

After work, I fired up my Kawasaki and rode across town to Meyer Honda. I love riding "naked". Naked bikes, like my Z1000. Sport bikes without windshields or fairings that typically have very little bodywork. Many manufacturers have jumped on the band wagon to build them after the success of Ducati’s line of Monsters and Triumph’s Speed Triple. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of riding a powerful two-wheeled machine built for speed with your body exposed to the wind and elements. It is total freedom. You experience sensations beyond description.

Fantastic Friday

by Dieter

Peyton studied the glasses lying on her vanity. They were absolutely magnificent. She knew so because she personally chose the frames at the optical shop. Their color was an exceptionally dark red made from high quality plastic. The frames were vaguely reminiscent of a cat-eye style. The shape, however, was more of a modified rectangle where the tops of the lenses were longer than the bottoms. The frame pieces were smooth and sturdy-looking but not chunky. She thought the tastefully subtle rhinestone pattern on the temples was especially appealing. The glasses were distinctly feminine and had been quite expensive. They were worth every penny.

Even the lenses were amazing. The shiny gemstones of clear plastic magnified the words on the open pages of a magazine upon where the glasses were laid. It was not apparent that the lower portion of the lenses had an even stronger magnifying power than the top. There was no obvious line or any other tell-tale giveaway. Nothing about the lenses made a statement about the age of the wearer. And yet, Peyton was petrified. Why had this happened to her? Why now did she need glasses? What had changed to make her eyes no longer work well?

Super Sunday

by Dieter

Peyton’s 2nd Story

Peyton examined the faces around the large table in the formal dining room. Everyone’s attention was focused on the task at hand; that of passing dishes of food to each other. As the festive “please and thank you” phrases were offered liberally, she recognized that she was the only person wearing glasses. Focusing her eyes through the doorway, she could see that even the children sitting at the table in the breakfast nook were without. Peyton had to wonder. Was she adopted? Did she share any genetic material with this family? Would it be too much to ask for someone else to suffer vision problems with her? Just one of them! Her grandmother, who passed recently, was the last person in the family she could remember that wore glasses.

Though, for the moment, she hoped that no one else would take notice. After all, it would surely return the topic of conversation back to the one that occurred previously. Making her grand entrance earlier, to be met by her entire family at the front door, had been humbling enough. She had not expected to be roasted the moment she entered. If only she hadn’t allowed herself to be the last one to arrive.

It had been but four weeks since she first began wearing “real” glasses. The technique her eyes needed to use the lenses with the progressive prescriptions had become natural and efficient. Peyton liked that. If there is anything that a process engineer appreciates fully, it is, well, efficiency. Clearly she missed being able to see without assistance. The doctor had advised her to anticipate that. He implied that it was a sacrifice that was necessary to pacify the headaches and correct her farsighted eyes. However, with the use of glasses now, Peyton had perfect vision. That was an improvement.

Field of Vision

by Dieter

My eyes protested as I left the dark confines of the parking garage and merged into the rush hour traffic on the bright downtown street. Within a few blocks, I was high above the Mississippi on the bridge heading north towards the Iowa side of the Quad Cities. The banks of the river were overflowing with rushing water caused by the extraordinary amount of early summer rains. It was a wondrous sight, though I’m certain the flood victims downstream would take exception to my choice of adjectives.

I’ve always loved working in that high rise building in downtown Rock Island. The view from my office is spectacular. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m there for my job. Today had been a pressure cooker but it was nothing like I expected to find when I arrived home to face my wife. I needed to unwind and de-stress before that. When I descended back to ground level, I continued into the city streets instead of following the main highway. There’s something peaceful about driving through the quaint neighborhoods of older Davenport. I suppose it reminds me of a simpler time when I lived happily as a child in one of those homes.

Lucy’s Greatest Treasure

By Christy

Father Browne’s large figure crossed the playground once again. He’d spent the best part of a week walking between the church and the school. It was Friday and it was the last chance to talk to the children about Sunday’s special service. He’d made an effort to include them and was now finding that they had plenty of ideas of their own about what form it was going to take. The playground was empty, as the children had just been called into the hall for morning assembly. Father Browne entered the hall, already propping his gold-framed half-moon glasses on his nose. A perfunctory prayer from him, a few brief announcements from the headmistress, then it was back to Father Browne to talk about the arrangements for Sunday. He added that he’d be visiting each class in turn to make sure that all the key players knew what they were supposed to be doing.

New Glasses

by Iruckus1

I remember when my wife, a full time contact lens wearer, got her new glasses. We had been married for about three years and I’d seen her in glasses only for infrequent late night TV viewing or while she was experiencing her occasional eye infections (how she managed to get to and from the bathroom everyday was beyond me). I practically lived for those rare moments. I’d even miss work to be home with her if she was unable to go out because of it. Though a bit hesitant at first, she’d leave her glasses on when we’d make love (which was as frequent as humanly possible). Her eyesight was pretty bad and she would often bring up the subject of laser surgery. Maybe because she was so attractive she hated the fact that she was physically imperfect. She hated most of all the glasses…the outward manifestation of her imperfection. The lenses were quite thick. They did indeed alter her look. Though severe, I found it very pleasing.

Stories about Deborah 3

Deborah by CZski

posted 30 December 1999 10:31

Up until I moved back to the U.S. just a few months ago, I was a contributing editor to the MIRROR, so I will relate as much of the wonderful story about Bobby's stunning photos of Deborah as I can, but I cannot go into any great detail, nor can I reveal any personal information (last names, addresses, etc.) about either Deborah or Bobby. I have been privileged to know both of them as very close friends for quite some time, mainly because I have interviewed each of them many times for my MIRROR articles, and also because I am quite myopic myself (my script is: R -12.50 - 2.50 ax 180 and L -12.00 -2.50 ax 180) and sometimes wear glasses with 1/2" thick plastic lenses instead of my regular soft contact lenses.

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.

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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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.