Three glasses cases. One face.

The black case was for my glasses. The grey case was a backup. I could not explain the maroon pouch, even to myself, but it was already in the bag and seemed rude to remove.

My sister had invited me to a bathhouse. I had read the lens-care instructions, which warned about extreme heat, then spent more time choosing a case than considering how I would see without the glasses inside it.

First, a look around.

At the changing bench, all three cases fell out. I took a photo before putting my phone away. My sister replied with a picture of her one handbag. Some people cannot let an advantage pass.

I asked the attendant where my glasses could stay outside the heat. Then I asked to see the route while I could still see it: changing area, shower, room entrance, place to rest. We checked the step I had mistaken for a shadow.

"Will you show me that again?" I said. I had nearly pretended I understood. A wet floor seemed a poor place to maintain that performance.

The door became a brown rectangle.

Without my glasses, I could recognise my sister by her orange towel and brisk way of pointing. I could not read the room sign. Instead of following the nearest moving shape, I asked for help and took my time.

I kept the visit simple. One room, a break, no exploratory lap around every unfamiliar corner. There was nothing to gain by making navigation difficult.

The useful thing stayed in my mouth.

Back at the locker, the glasses were exactly where I had left them. The grey case remained empty. The maroon pouch had collected a sock.

Next time I will bring one hard case and ask the same questions. My sister says this counts as progress. I think the real improvement was saying I could not see the sign before walking into the wrong room.