Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
"You’re welcome," Cassidy said absently. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from their mouth. He liked feeding them. And he decided not to examine why very closely.
By mid-afternoon, Cassidy was in hell.
His fluorescent light sensitivity had begun several years before, and had only intensified since then. Now, even five minutes in a fluorescent-lit place was enough to catalyze the reaction.
First, it felt like his eyeballs were vibrating. Next, it felt like someone was gouging them out with a grapefruit spoon. Then, a band of pressure around his head like a vise. Finally, the nausea, which would have him vomiting if he stayed in them too long.
All the symptoms intensified the more sleep-deprived or dehydrated he was, and the more sensory input he was getting in addition to the fluorescents. He’d rested the night before, had a huge water bottle with him at the table, and was doing his best to eat at regular intervals.
Still, with each hour that passed he felt worse and worse. He’d known he would—this was the third year that he and Nora had attended Craftmas. Nora had even offered to do the event on her own so he wouldn’t get zapped, but it was too big a job for either of them on their own.
No matter how cheesy the event was—and it was extremely cheesy, because it was a Christmas craft fair—it was also joyous and energizing and Cassidy enjoyed talking to the people who were interested in the booth, not to mention all the other vendors.
But even though he had gone into the day with his eyes open, those same eyes were now asking things like But why would you want to gouge us out with grapefruit spoons? What’d we ever do to you? His stomach, though pleased with the deposit of a cookie, screamed What’s the point? You’re just gonna puke it up. And his head added very good points as well, such as I will still ache tomorrow, just FYI.
Cassidy thought he was doing a good job of keeping the discomfort off his face—at least, none of the customers seemed to notice anything. But the next time there was a lull, River grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bathrooms.
When they were out of view of the crowd, they said, "What the hell is going on with you? You look like you’re about to faint. Are you sick? What’s up?"
Somewhere, deep in his nauseated gut, River’s concern was a cool breeze of mint against the burning roil. They noticed I was ill! They noticed and they cared!
Okay, loverboy, he heard Nora’s voice say in his head. Basic human kindness isn’t exactly a declaration of love. Take it down a notch.
"I’m kind of allergic to fluorescent lights."
"Allergic to … " River looked up. "But all the lights in here are fluorescent."
"Yeah."
"Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?"
"A lot, probably."
River ignored his flippancy.
"Most immediately?"
"Uh." Cassidy scanned his body. His eyes felt like they were popped out of his head and his optic nerves were vibrating, like if Dali had made that melting clock painting about eyeballs. His head was being crushed by a vice of pain. But there was nothing that would help there.
"Puking," he said.
"You need to, or you’re trying to avoid it?"
It was such an infinitely complex question that would take so much information to explain.
Into the silence of Cassidy’s overwhelm, River simply said, "Close your eyes and come with me."
Cassidy didn’t even try to argue, just closed his eyes, begged his body to hold up for a few more hours, and focused on the single spot of good feeling in his body: his right hand, which was in River’s as they pulled him along.
The frosty winter air hitting his face was an intense relief. Yeah, it also smelled of cigarette smoke, exhaust, and generic parking lot goo, but the sudden cold shocked his system a bit, distracting from his discomfort.
He gulped in deep, refreshing breaths, trying to smell nothing but the snow and trees. It would only be a temporary fix; his symptoms would come back the moment he went inside. But the break seemed to have quieted his gag reflex if nothing else, for which he was grateful.
"Thanks," he said on a sigh. "I’d better get back in, though."
River nodded. They were shivering in the cold without a jacket.
"Is there anything I can do?"
It killed Cassidy to have to tell them no, there was nothing they could do. There was nothing anyone could do except realize that it was an accessibility issue for him and others (a lot of others, if the multiple subreddits he followed were any indication), and stop using them.
"You already did it," he said. "Thank you."
River nodded, but they were frowning.
"Okay. Let me know if you need anything?"
Cassidy promised that he would, filing away the look on their face to examine later.