R.L. King

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Correction

Vision can be corrected with a lens, but it doesn't always help you see more clearly.

Case file 54-6698

Inspiration

Okay, this one is wild. I had never written poetry before, but as I tried my hand at writing something from the perspective of an inanimate object, this is what came out. Let me know if you find the hidden meaning within the words.

The world is liquid.

Light bends.

Currents bleed.

A heat – blinding – strong enough to melt stone.

Sudden light, not the yellow glow of the coals beneath, but a white brilliance.

A gloved hand pulls you from the enveloping heat. The sudden chill solidifies edges, unable to reach the core within.

Moving.

Sloshing.
Halting before sliding heavily into a new container.

Darkness Descends.

Scene break

Light breaks again, the world a haze. Lamps of gas floating high. Hands press into a solidified body, testing strength. A new table, sliced thin. More hands, more tools, and the taste of water.

A thick paste tears at your skin.

Deep gouges form, marring what once was smooth. The world gets sharper. Colors. Lights and shadows. Images that blur at the edges, the center a tunnel containing the hands that hold you.

The light of the sun, blinding at first, refracting and morphing before emerging from the other side. Blue fills the world around you, an iris…

Contracts.
Expands.
Recedes.

The feel of velvet as you are placed within a container. An echo as the lid snaps shut.

Darkness Descends.

Scene break

Voices.

Movement.

Light.

The box opens, hands grasping smoothed edges, lifting. Splotches of ink stain long fingers that maneuver you into place. Slotting into space between brow and cheek, chain falling to the side in a cascade of metal ringlets. Eye of brown.

His fingers move over grooved tiles spread on a table.

Slide.

Click.
Slot.

Black ink rolls over bumps side by side.

White paper presses down.

Up.
Over.
Down.

Ink and paper…

Ink and paper…

A ringing, a clock, a velvet box.

Darkness Descends.

Scene break

The ringing comes, but the box does not. The light of day shines through you once more before a door is opened. Sun across the wall, the hem of a blue dress, a child on the floor. Small hands, sticky hands. Smears across glass blur vision, but green remains.

Slide into a cotton embrace.

Darkness Descends.

Scene break

Every day it rings, and every day her hands — larger now — tug on the chain.

Laughter.

Smudges.
Darkness.

Until today.

No hands smear your glass. No laughter fills the room. Up, up, up. A lilac door. A girl, on the floor. An open book.

Yelling.

Crying.
Falling.

Crack.

The world splits. Clear on one side. Clear on the other. But down the middle? Distortion where clarity once was.

A tight fist, a dangling chain, a velvet box.

Darkness Descends.

Scene break

Shuffles. Murmurs. Velvet dissolves, clings, distorts. Nothing but a void, until…

The lid creaks open, metal hinges crying with disuse. Green eyes, not brown. Soft fingers wipe away the velvet that clings.

Scene break

Cool ceramic surrounds, calloused hands laying you within. Heat licks at the edges, warping light and sound until smooth again.

Cooling.

Slicing.
Grinding.
Polishing.

Edges once warped in thickness now thin. Colors once blurred now vivid. And, as you are held in the sun, you see that you are not alone in your frame.

Scene break

Green eyes. New frames. Walking through city streets. Vivid flowers line stalls. Children kick a scuffed ball. Carriages pass by. Steam rises from horse nostrils.

Laughter.

Whinnies.
Wheels on stone.

A green field, reflecting her color all around. Straight ahead. A tree. A bush. A lake in the distance. Kneeling before a stone, grooves familiar in its face. A hand, trembling slightly, opens — an old frame, chain still attached, laid upon the stone.

Scene break

Voices echo, chattering noise. The sharp tap of a ruler against wood. Chalk dust hangs midair. A book, raised high, blocking faces that look ahead.

She reads.

Silence Descends.

© 2026 Ryan King. This story is original work and may not be reproduced or redistributed without permission.

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