The Doe's Downfall

The doe stood facing northward, as it always did. On its right side, it was a doe as strong as any other, but as to its left side, it was weak. With even a quick glance at the doe, the stark difference between her sharp dark brown eye and her dull gray one was evident. From its early childhood onward, the creature had suffered blindness in its left eye. Even so, it was no helpless prisoner of fate. Having half her vision maimed did not prevent this young deer from pluckily feeding in the open plains. By keeping its blind eye toward the sea, the deer found that all danger was within its view. But came the day shot down she would be, not from the land, but from the sea.

The doe did not view that particular morning as unusual. She took her normal stance, feeding by the shore, separating the tender blades of grass from the sand that surrounded them. Although the crew of the incoming ship made a raucous amount of noise, she dismissed it. She had become blind in more than just her eye.

Suddenly, a pain sprinted through her body. Her friend, the sea, had sent a Brutus to ensure her death. As she fell, her good eye now faced the seashore. She could see clearly now, if only for a second. The trust she had placed in the sea drained faster than her blood, and the vision in her right eye blurred to match her left.