by Jason Bauer
The lightbulbs in my kitchen look like little Liberty Bells. It took me 17 years and three hundred something days to see it, but they are. It kinda burns to look at them, but it feels good. It makes my vision distort a bit. Everything turns a little sideways and fuzzy. The walls become floors and the floors become ceilings.
I think maybe there’s a layer of film on my eyes, like the top of a pudding snack, that distorts my vision and makes everything look plain. It tears away at the saturation and curvature of reality in favor of monotone colors and straight lines. And maybe, just maybe, when I look directly at the bells, the film burns off like Icarus’s wings, so I can finally see before my retinas burn. I suppose that’s why Icarus laughed as he fell.