Miguel Ángel fell over while he was going up the escalator at the Carlos Pellegrini station, on the line B. Dozens of shoes squashed him, sunk into his stomach, into his neck and into his eye until Miguel screamed with pain and the horde opened up like ants when you kick an anthill.
Miguel’s left eye dislodged from its orbit and jumped about until it rolled away onto a step and down the escalator. With his right eye Miguel could see the people that he was surrounded with, who were offering him handkerchieves or running around looking for a doctor. He also saw the platform, actually he saw it again because the dislodged eye didn’t stop sending information to the brain.
The one-eyed beggar from the station saw the eye falling down the escalator. He grabbed it, put it in the patched-up pocket of his jacket and ran to the Santa Lucia hospital. There he had the eye implanted in a complicated operation which lasted five hours. In a small first aid room, Miguel had his eye replaced with a crystal one.
The beggar quickly learned how to live with two eyes; his takings dropped, but the vision of the world in three dimensions eclipsed all the difficulties. It took Miguel some time to get used to the simultaneous perception of two realities. In the course of time, he started to enjoy some situations, like watching himself while giving change to the two-eyed beggar.
No comments:
Post a Comment