{"id":450,"date":"2019-08-17T12:29:45","date_gmt":"2019-08-17T12:29:45","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/?p=450"},"modified":"2019-08-17T12:29:45","modified_gmt":"2019-08-17T12:29:45","slug":"plain-jane-grey-an-introvert-comes-to-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/?p=450","title":{"rendered":"Plain Jane Grey an introvert comes to life"},"content":{"rendered":"<ul class=\"wpsocialite social-buttons large\"><li><a href=\"http:\/\/www.facebook.com\/sharer.php?u=https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/?p=450&amp;locale=en_US&amp;t=\" class=\"socialite facebook-like\" data-lang=\"en_US\" data-href=\"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/?p=450\" data-send=\"false\" data-layout=\"box_count\" data-width=\"60\" data-show-faces=\"false\" rel=\"nofollow\" target=\"_blank\"><span class=\"vhidden\">Share on Facebook.<\/span><\/a><\/li><li><a href=\"http:\/\/twitter.com\/share\" class=\"socialite twitter-share\" data-text=\"\" data-url=\"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/?p=450\" data-count=\"vertical\" data-lang=\"en_US\" data-via=\"@birdstoowit\" rel=\"nofollow\" target=\"_blank\"><span class=\"vhidden\">Share on Twitter.<\/span><\/a><\/li><\/ul><p>Plain Jane Grey<\/p>\n<p>Copywrite Peter G Barnett (aka Peter L. Barnes) 2019<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The onesie upon the line, hung lifeless and unmoving, \u00a0undisturbed by any breeze. Jane sat by the window and stared at her spinning wheel and tried to imagine a finished article but could not even envisage the start. She looked out at the nothing day, no wind, no rain, no snow on the ground, just a grey blankness from which no magical images would appear.<\/p>\n<p>The path was not beaten to her door, the flowers had not bloomed; the bushes were withered and the leaves on the tree were very ordinary this year. Not the bright greens of spring, nor the vibrant dark greens of summer, and certainly not the red and orange colours of autumn. For all intents and purposes the outside world was merely a black and white version of normality.<\/p>\n<p>Her heart was empty, a dark hole in her chest where love should preside. No matter how hard she tried, no-one came up to her standards, which were already pretty low. But even that was a lie, she hadn\u2019t actually met anyone who had a vague interest in her. Her last date had been on the school bus where even her \u2018boyfriend\u2019 had sat in another seat and occasionally glanced her way. Well she supposed it wasn\u2019t even a date, she just contrived to be on the same bus as he was.<\/p>\n<p>She used to marvel about some of her friends, well acquaintances to be more accurate, who used to pick up boys at the drop of a hat. And then dump them as quickly, knowing there were more fish to hook at a moment\u2019s notice. To try and improve her appearance she went to a colour match consultant but was given a simple array of greys and blacks, with the occasional white highlights.<\/p>\n<p>She opened up her computer to see if anyone had responded to her friend requests only to be disappointed once again. She followed a few tweets of the soap opera stars, wondering why their lives did not reflect the story lines, before remembering that TV was not all reality shows. She didn\u2019t enjoy the animal planet programmes because viewed in black and white, it made the commentary seem ridiculous and out of touch with her as a viewer.<\/p>\n<p>Articles in the newspaper made painful reading, not only for the content but her eyes seemed to be taking an undue strain these days. She decided that she needed new glasses as her vision seemed to be losing focus, whether this was a euphemism of her life or reality she didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n<p>Her visit to the optician was an eye opener. Besides being a bit of a dish, he diagnosed an unusual problem with her eyes, after a session with the Ishihara charts. The reality was that she didn\u2019t see colours at all, in fact she could only see in black and white.<\/p>\n<p>He gave her a pair of tinted glasses.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow look at the garden.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked out at the rose garden behind his clinic and was astonished to see a row of pink roses.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s wonderful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI will make up a special pair for you for your next visit which will show you even more colours.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jane\u2019s life steadily improved from a dull grey outlook to a more colourful one even if it was only pink tinged. She looked forward to next week but thought a new outfit might be in order. Looking through the clothes shelves for \u2018pink\u2019 on the lable she finally found what she hoped would be a matching outfit.<\/p>\n<p>Arriving at the clinic the optician gave her an odd stare at the new outfit.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think we can improve on your look once you have your new glasses.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell it still doesn\u2019t colour match,\u201d he said in a kind voice. \u201cDid an assistant help you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh no I wouldn\u2019t want them to be bothered with me,\u201d said Jane. \u201cI just looked for pink on the lable.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou do know that \u2018Pink\u2019 is a designer trade name?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t. Oh, dear is it awful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d he said, \u201cBut we can do a lot better I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Did he say we, thought Jane?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow I need you to relax on your side and rest your head between the supports,\u201d said the optician. \u201cYou\u2019ll feel a tiny sharp pain, it\u2019s only a local anaesthetic.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow is that numb,\u201d he said, touching the side of her head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She felt some pressure on the side of her head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere, that\u2019s done.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s done?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve inserted two sensors into your brain where colour is detected,\u201d he said. \u201cThey will make contact with these glasses.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He showed her the frame he had chosen, with two gold contacts behind the ear hook.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere are two cameras in the frame to give you a 3d vision, with colour.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He fitted the glasses. \u201cNow close your eyes for a second.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He turned the chair around and sat her up. \u201cNow open them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her vision was assailed with multi-coloured hues and startling bright flashes. Greens, reds blues and yellows and all the colours of the rainbow, shone in the bright sunshine. A variety of roses and pretty flowers in the garden, made tears flow from the corners of her eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe glasses only have tunnel vision, so you can only really look forward to get the best effect.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked down at her outfit and understood why he had said that there could be an improvement. \u201cOops orange and pink don\u2019t really go do they.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, but it could have been worse.\u201d He said. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you what why don\u2019t we meet for coffee at the local shopping mall? I\u2019ll be finished in an hour and we can look through the clothes at Hollisters and see what we can find.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019ll be lovely,\u201d said Jane, her heart thumping for no reason at all, or more probably every reason.<\/p>\n<p>She went outside, mounted her old-fashioned motorbike and kick-started it into life. \u201cNow is that another euphemism or what,\u201d she said to a startled patient entering the clinic.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe sat at the Costa Coffee shop sipping her dark brown hot chocolate, wondering at the array of colourful outfits on the bright young things.<\/p>\n<p>The chair opposite her scraped backwards as the optician sat down. \u201cSebastian by the way.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJane but you knew that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut no longer a calamity we hope.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAbsolutely not,\u201d said Jane, grinning like a cat. \u201cHave I got chocolate on my lips?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly a little chocolate smile,\u201d he said, gently wiping the tops of her lips with the serviette. \u201cRight let\u2019s get over to the shop, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They went for a mix of \u2018born again, flower power\u2019 tops and sparkly jeans. Some twinkly trainers finish off the look.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have to go,\u201d said Sebastian. \u201cCan I take you out this evening.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUh not sure, I mean of course yes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll see you at seven then.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jane watched his honed body walk out of the mall and caught several other yummy mummies following his every move. He\u2019s mine she thought, keep off.<\/p>\n<p>She rode back to her cottage, panier bags full of packages. A small shower threatened to spoil her mood but the sight of her first rainbow that seemed to be resting on her roof where the chimney gleamed yellow reflecting the sunshine.<\/p>\n<p>She was ready far too early but couldn\u2019t help admiring her looks in the full-length mirror, normally kept hidden by a blanket draped over the top. Finally, the doorbell rang, and she flung open the door to find a vison in front of her. Gone was his white jacket from the clinic and instead an equally bright shirt and a red bandana showed off his holiday tan. He held out a flower and placed it in her hairband. They both looked straight out of the Woodstock and Free Love Era and they vowed to be hippy ever after.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Plain Jane Grey Copywrite Peter G Barnett (aka Peter L. Barnes) 2019 &nbsp; The onesie upon the line, hung lifeless and unmoving, \u00a0undisturbed by any breeze. Jane sat by the window and stared at her spinning wheel and tried to imagine a finished article but could not even envisage the start. She looked out at [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/450"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=450"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/450\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":451,"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/450\/revisions\/451"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=450"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=450"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.peterlbarnes.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=450"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}