The girl had grown up with her rose-colored glasses always perched on her nose. As had everyone else. There was no person that she had ever seen not wearing rose-colored glasses. As far as she knew, no one had ever questioned why they did it, or taken them off. It was simply how they lived.
As the girl grew older, she started to wonder why the glasses were worn by everyone, constantly. It didn’t make sense. Anytime she asked her parents about it, or her friends, they all seemed to brush past the topic, insisting that it was just the way things had to be. No one else questioned it, except her.
One night, the girl decided to go for a walk. She turned down the path across from her house, walked up a hill, and stopped at the top. The view from the top showcased the whole city and an endless array of stars. If only I didn’t have to wear these glasses, the girl thought to herself. I could see the stars in all their glory clearly. She suddenly had a thought: What would happen if I took them off, just for a second? Surely it couldn’t hurt. After all, they’re removable for a reason.
So the girl took a deep breath, raised her hand, and gingerly lifted the glasses from her face. As they came off her nose, a gust of wind swept around the girl, making her drop the glasses. When the girl stood up and looked around her, she saw a barren wasteland of a world. Her city was in shambles, chaos breaking out in every corner visible to the human eye. It was like a war scene from a history textbook, with every building destroyed and smoke rising around the city, blocking her view of the stars.
“Interesting, is it not?” a voice said from next to the girl, startling her. She turned to her right, and saw an old man sitting on a bench, observing the hell-like city.
“What is this place?” she asked him, careful not to move too near him.
“It is our world in all its glory,” he responded.
“This is the same world you have always lived in, have always seen, except without the privilege of those glasses,” he said, nodding towards the rose-colored glasses on the ground.
“But I don’t understand,” the girl continued. “What do the glasses have to do with anything?” She watched the old man very carefully, and came to the conclusion that he had been sitting there for a long time. He seemed very comfortable, and hadn’t looked away from the city once since they’d started talking.
“Those glasses are the concrete of your society,” the man responded. “Everyone goes about their day wearing them, never questioning why or how they came to be such a large part of our world.”
“Was there ever a time when the glasses didn’t exist?” the girl asked.
“There once was a time, long ago, when they weren’t a thing,” the man started. “It was a sudden change, when everyone started wearing them, and most every sane person did. The ones who didn’t eventually did, including myself. However, I could never shake the feeling of knowing there was something more without the glasses, a different world,” he continued. “I took them off one day and never went back to the world you know so well.” The girl seemed confused, so the man added, “The rose-colored lenses are the way in which you view the world. I am living in the same world that you are, simply without the glasses.”
The girl realized what he was saying, and picked up the glasses from the burnt ground. She slowly turned them around in her hand, noticing that a large crack had formed in one of the lenses from when they dropped.
She held the glasses up to the full moon, the only light in the city, and watched as the moonbeams went through the glasses and cast a rose-colored glow in front of her. Wherever the light touched, plants and grass started to shoot up, much like the girl’s old world. As soon as she moved the glasses away, the hill once again became burnt and dead. The girl walked over to the old man, and sat down next to him. He turned to look at her for the first time, and glanced at the glasses clutched tightly in her hand. He sighed and looked once more over the city. Nothing more was left to be said.
The girl wiped the glasses clean with her shirt and put them back on. As she opened her eyes, the world was once again alive with nature and power. The birds were singing, the grass was green, and the sun was bright. However, the girl didn’t fail to notice the slight gray tinge to her surroundings. The world seemed a little less colorful than usual. The crack in her glasses was small, but would probably spread. I should get these fixed, the girl thought to herself. So she stood up from the bench, the old man nowhere to be seen, and started back down the hill towards her house, the image of the destroyed city already fading from her memory.
As the girl grew older, she started to wonder why the glasses were worn by everyone, constantly. It didn’t make sense. Anytime she asked her parents about it, or her friends, they all seemed to brush past the topic, insisting that it was just the way things had to be. No one else questioned it, except her.
One night, the girl decided to go for a walk. She turned down the path across from her house, walked up a hill, and stopped at the top. The view from the top showcased the whole city and an endless array of stars. If only I didn’t have to wear these glasses, the girl thought to herself. I could see the stars in all their glory clearly. She suddenly had a thought: What would happen if I took them off, just for a second? Surely it couldn’t hurt. After all, they’re removable for a reason.
So the girl took a deep breath, raised her hand, and gingerly lifted the glasses from her face. As they came off her nose, a gust of wind swept around the girl, making her drop the glasses. When the girl stood up and looked around her, she saw a barren wasteland of a world. Her city was in shambles, chaos breaking out in every corner visible to the human eye. It was like a war scene from a history textbook, with every building destroyed and smoke rising around the city, blocking her view of the stars.
“Interesting, is it not?” a voice said from next to the girl, startling her. She turned to her right, and saw an old man sitting on a bench, observing the hell-like city.
“What is this place?” she asked him, careful not to move too near him.
“It is our world in all its glory,” he responded.
“This is the same world you have always lived in, have always seen, except without the privilege of those glasses,” he said, nodding towards the rose-colored glasses on the ground.
“But I don’t understand,” the girl continued. “What do the glasses have to do with anything?” She watched the old man very carefully, and came to the conclusion that he had been sitting there for a long time. He seemed very comfortable, and hadn’t looked away from the city once since they’d started talking.
“Those glasses are the concrete of your society,” the man responded. “Everyone goes about their day wearing them, never questioning why or how they came to be such a large part of our world.”
“Was there ever a time when the glasses didn’t exist?” the girl asked.
“There once was a time, long ago, when they weren’t a thing,” the man started. “It was a sudden change, when everyone started wearing them, and most every sane person did. The ones who didn’t eventually did, including myself. However, I could never shake the feeling of knowing there was something more without the glasses, a different world,” he continued. “I took them off one day and never went back to the world you know so well.” The girl seemed confused, so the man added, “The rose-colored lenses are the way in which you view the world. I am living in the same world that you are, simply without the glasses.”
The girl realized what he was saying, and picked up the glasses from the burnt ground. She slowly turned them around in her hand, noticing that a large crack had formed in one of the lenses from when they dropped.
She held the glasses up to the full moon, the only light in the city, and watched as the moonbeams went through the glasses and cast a rose-colored glow in front of her. Wherever the light touched, plants and grass started to shoot up, much like the girl’s old world. As soon as she moved the glasses away, the hill once again became burnt and dead. The girl walked over to the old man, and sat down next to him. He turned to look at her for the first time, and glanced at the glasses clutched tightly in her hand. He sighed and looked once more over the city. Nothing more was left to be said.
The girl wiped the glasses clean with her shirt and put them back on. As she opened her eyes, the world was once again alive with nature and power. The birds were singing, the grass was green, and the sun was bright. However, the girl didn’t fail to notice the slight gray tinge to her surroundings. The world seemed a little less colorful than usual. The crack in her glasses was small, but would probably spread. I should get these fixed, the girl thought to herself. So she stood up from the bench, the old man nowhere to be seen, and started back down the hill towards her house, the image of the destroyed city already fading from her memory.