Cyclops

Quart three, ful down and Sarina the Vietnamese barista—christened by the clientele—suggests the stronger African soy chai latte today. An Uber driver eating at the long table reported no increased racism here since the election of Trump & Morrison. Australians were not interested in politics, completely ignorant, the man declared. Africans, Middle Easterners, Eastern Euros knew the drill, the man continued. When a friend turned up only to find there was no more ful the Uber immediately pushed his plate over to him and they fingered together with their bread. How in the heck was a Cyclops meant to take the street outdoors, this wintry one or any other? Highly limited. It was a surprise yesterday Veki reporting blindness in one eye did not disqualify a driver here. In the event of some kind of mishap leading to loss of eye, or loss of vision in an eye, there was a period of acclimatisation mandated—three months it may have been—before one could get behind the wheel again. Out on the highways as before, turning the periscope carefully left and right it seemed. It seemed strange with that level of limitation. Little wonder Odysseus had managed so well with the Cyclops; how was the poor guy meant to battle a cagey old warrior half-blind like that. A couple of years ago Veki had suffered a partially detached retina. The day of the meeting Veki had in fact come from his yearly consultation with his ophthalmologist. In Altona Meadows, in Classic Court there amongst all the acres of the subdivisions, the shopping hub of fast food, Specsavers, Liquorland and supermarket sat two or three kilometres off, Altona with its larger offering near ten kilometres—understandable concern becoming stranded without the option of the motor car. Like all the big cities now, certainly in the West, you were stuffed without the motor. Veki had enquired about the regs in advance.