cilium raze not one, not two, but three small spirals of hair drifted into the same eye, almost at the same time, while i stood at the bathroom sink wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and socks that shielded my feet from whatever the floor might have given them if they'd been bare. the last interloper would not be coaxed into leaving. blinking only served to emphasize the unwanted feeling of fullness the fallen filament gave to the globe it strove to make its home. my fingers did me no favours. each time i stared myself down in the mirror after trying to extract the eyelash, there the thing still was, swimming in sclera. i reached for the cloth i'd used to wash my face, kneaded the pocket of skin that held the afflicted orb, and felt my shoulders sag with relief as dumb luck and dampness did what my hands alone weren't able to. 240712 what's it to you? who go blather from