"This is a face only a blind person could love." I told the creature in my mirror.
But then I remembered something that happened in the metro my first week in France. A blind man, trapped between two confusing sets of staircases, called out for someone to help him.
"Hey! I can help you!" I answered in my most eager, polite French.
"Can someone WHO ACTUALLY SPEAKS FRENCH help me?" he yelled.
So on second thought, no one loves me. My eyes are fine now.
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