The dilation kicked in while I read. Earlier, the ophthalmologist’s nurse put drops in my eyes and explained that it'd take 20 minutes, sending me back to the waiting room. I brought a book along, not grasping that light and more light would flood the print, making it difficult to look at the page or anywhere, really. Feeling a slight discomfort, I set the book down and closed my eyes.
An older couple sat to the left and the man, the husband I’m sure, moaned. “Ugh-h-h-h-h.
Ohm-m-m-mnnn. Ooouuuwwww.” After the tenth
or so set of moans, the wife cleared her throat and started to speak to him in a warm, low
tone. “Dear,” she said, “give it a REST.” My eyes popped open. Their backs were to a large window
and daylight blasted such that I couldn't make them out. Just then the nurse called my
name and I got up and walked away.