By Alison Lock
Light refracts as she rolls a glass ball in her palm. Images gather, exhibits take flight, magnified. She places the ball into the bowl with the other spheres – every shade of iris. She considers their original containers, those bony orifices, the unabashed stares.
The museum is empty. She is in a room of Victorian medical implements, of obstetrics, forensics, and eyes. Now they are glinting, their pupils turning, toward her. She rubs her eyes to clear her vision. A glass globe falls from her face, tinkling into the bowl.