My surroundings abruptly crash into focus, the world has transformed from a bleak hazy environment into a razor sharp, crystal clear story. The beads of solution left over in the case, the thick cloud of dust particles as they drift through the air, the finely honed edges on the blades in the kitchen. The soft smooth edges of my world have instantaneously rearranged themselves into the harsh-edged jagged world.
   

The crystal clear aquamarine slivers of Hydrogel sloshed around in the pool of water, saltier than the Dead Sea. The surface tension of the saline solution draws the contact close to the tip of my index finger, in position to be assimilated by my eye. As my finger draws near, the contact quickly leaps off my finger onto my waiting cornea. I blink in shock, it is a feeling which one never gets used to.
   

My contacts were in, an agony I must endure each and every day, yet it is worth it. My windows to the world reveal the excellence in everything around me. The youthful gentleman in the sharp business suit, assisting the elderly cripple across the road. The flowers in the cracks and crevasses of the street, surviving against the will of the world. The seeing eye dog, halting the blinded man before he walks into the street. However with the pleasant also must come the unpleasant. The miserable mutts, left alone on the street because nobody loves them. The layers of trash flowing through the city streets, tossed out by the neglectful masses. The people left behind by society as it barrels forward. There is a cold and frigid night which lies ahead of the man lying on the bench. His scraggly beard flowed in the breeze, his old eyes, crinkled from a lifetime of frowns. A toymaker in a previous life, he has all of the knowledge to continue on, if his profession were not antiquated. A love for those around him is all that has kept him alive, yet nobody will respond in kind.
   

The world has been put on display for the day, examined in every painstaking detail: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Pulling the slivers of plastic out of my eyes, the world returns to its soft smooth edges and star-shaped lights; the sharp bladed edges and the pinpricks of light have faded away. My world has shrunk down to that of a single room, making it easy to forget that anything else exists. I let the contact slip off of my finger into the abyss of blurriness, until tomorrow that is.