She could discern no improvement in her vision. The vague, shadowy dimness still loitered at the edges of her view like a lurking thief. Casing the joint. Biding its time. She chastised herself for impatience. She’d had her first injection less than twenty-four hours ago. She shouldn’t expect immediate results. Or maybe she was in the placebo group. Fear clutched at the back of her throat. This clinical trial was her last hope. All the standard treatments had failed to stem the gradual increase in intraocular pressure that was slowly, steadily stealing her sight. Her mother had been forced to give up driving at age 35, and today needed an image amplifier even to read her email. That kind of impairment would destroy Dana’s career. Dana’s adviser had tried to reassure her that she could always change tracks to theoretical astronomy. But observational astronomy was her passion. If she couldn’t see clearly… She leaned in closer to the mirror, looking into her own eyes. Observing.
