I was born with two left eyes in a world where the norm for the majority of people is to enjoy the privilege of one left eye and one right eye. I’m not saying there aren’t more people like me. Several of my coworkers at the cement plant have two left eyes, but because we are cursed with this gift the cement factory is as high on the social ladder as we going to get. The factory doesn’t pay much, four-fifty-four, but complaining is not an option. Complaints are handled by the NRA (National Right-Eye Agency) and Form RE169 only gets you a comfortable room at the local Left-Eye Mental Health Hospital. You’re observed for twenty-four hours to ensure suicide is not the real cause for the annoyance of an RE169.
There was a time I’m told that Religionists all over the world insisted the Holy Ones were lefties, but things have changed in the past hundred years. God is now a bi-eye king of kings.
Lefties are now considered less than human, ignorant and unworthy of eye contact with bi-eyes everywhere. My beautiful dark eyed wife, Synora, saved enough money to buy our daughter Mary and her fiancé Karl a wedding cake. We were refused by the bi-eyed baker. “Ain’t bakin’ no cake for no lefties,” He spat. “Go to your fucking lefty welfare line and get one!” The stare he gave us cut through our skin and made us bleed lefty blood as our heads turned away. “Get the fuck out of my store you fucking perverts!”
We knew better than taking the twenty-five mile trip to the Left Eye Welfare Corporation. The place was lucky to give you a gallon of powdered milk or a loaf of bread and even that was gifted only after a body, cavity and all, search. The wedding would be without cake, perhaps sugar bread could somehow be fancied up a bit to replace the dreams of Synora and Karl. The Marx home would once again be stripped of the remnants of its honor, nothing new, nothing to get huffy about.