Peering, she lingered on the fringe of the crowd, in the corner of the alley. The people on the sidewalk couldn’t see her as she wore the shadows like a cloak. She’d been told she deserved the shadows, to keep her ugly face hidden. The world wasn’t ready for her. She wasn’t ready for them, either. Civilization was beyond her, so she stayed in the gutters, the alleys, amid rats and filth.
But she had learned to see more with one eye than the rest of the world saw with two. The left never was, no socket, no scar. Cyclops.
