Obscured

He wasn’t a monster, but people assumed

he was.

Maybe they were ignorant.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe he was a freak.

Kenneth didn’t consider

himself to be

a mutant,

a societal abnormality.

He was a person, just like the

rest of them.

“I never should have come here,” he spat

under his breath

as he pushed

his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose.

Society shouldn’t know

the meaning of the word “ridicule.”

But what other option did he have?

He had come

too far to turn back now.

With his lightweight cane in his right hand, he struck

the door.

It swung

open, and Kenneth stepped

into the building.

The roar of conversation stopped

him in his tracks.

Taunted, exiled people had come

here for the very same reason he had.

He tentatively made

his way to the receptionist’s counter.

“Name, please,” the receptionist drawled.

The chair creaked

as she adjusted

her position and continued

grating

her nails against a filing board.

“Kenneth,” he replied.

“Kenneth Pia―”

“Yeah, I got it,” she cut

him off.

“He’ll be right with ya.

There’s some chairs open

to your left.”

“Kenneth?” he heard

a voice call.

He was led

to a room, and was then told

to sit

once more. Kenneth put down

his cane and took off

his sunglasses.

“Doctor, I’d like a new set of eyes.”