“Don’t move,” a voice as solemn as the grave commands.
The blade wielding voice does nothing to allay my fear.
My head feels numb but my body is tense; nerve-endings spasm.
Through eyes frozen open I can see the blade’s every move, but cannot flee.
Ensnared in mind-bending torture I hide behind a visualized vortex of rainbows as it slices and dices.
Cut follows cut and I discern what has been shrouded for so long…
…now that my eyes are cataract free.