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The next day the screen on the wall started to work.
Calming music played out from all sides in the room when she returned from the surgery, a pleasant surprise, and stopped when she verbally requested silence. It was comforting to be back in a room that heard her when she spoke.
In the morning, wondering if the music had been a dream, she asked the room to resume it. Instead, an image of waves appeared on the screen, fresh and blue and expansive.
With her new perfect eyes, watching the waves was the closest thing to a religious experience she had ever had.
She had never noticed before how each wave was unique. Like a snowflake or a fingerprint. Or a tongue.
The waves melted over the course of an hour from deep blue to gray and on toward black, tinged silver where they reflected a
