‘I’m telling you, I’m fine,’ I yelled down my phone, stepping aside to let a cyclist go past me on the footpath. ‘I don’t need to get a test.’

‘Are you sure?’ my sister asked. I could tell she was chewing her lip, even down the phone line.

‘Yes!’ I protested. ‘I can see perfectly well.’

‘You left the house in odd shoes again this morning.’

Did I? Damn, I thought, looking down at my feet. Sure enough – one red, one off-red.

‘Oh, they’re basically the exact same shoe,’ I laughed. ‘And I get dressed in the dark.’

‘I was wondering about that, actually,’ my sister said.

‘About what?’

‘About why you get dressed in the dark.’

I rolled my eyes, hoping she could hear it in my tone.

‘Because I get up early for work! Like tonnes of people, with a job.’

‘Most of those people also turn on the light,’ she said. ‘You don’t.’

‘Maybe it hurts my eyes, turning a light on so early,’ I shot back. ‘That doesn’t mean I need to travel for a comprehensive eye test near Bentleigh.’

‘Of course not,’ she laughed. ‘Unless the real reason is that the switch is the same colour as the wall and you can’t see it to turn it on.’

I stepped to the side as another cyclist shot past.

‘Hey, get off the footpath!’ I called after him.


‘Oh, nothing,’ I sighed. ‘Just a bunch of cyclists keep riding over the footpath.’

‘Ugh,’ my sister commiserated, ‘I hate when they do that.’

‘Right?!’ I nodded. ‘Luckily I know a good optometry place in the Bayside city council to recommend!’ I called loudly over my shoulder. My sister laughed.

Another cyclist zoomed past me.

‘Can’t you see I’m walking here?’ I yelled at his back tyre.

‘Get out of the damn bike lane, lady!’ he called back at me.

I stopped in my tracks and squinted down at where I was walking.

‘Ah, dammit,’ I swore.

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing,’ I sighed. ‘But you can send me that optometrist’s number now.’