Leo never noticed when it started. No one did. It was the kind of change you feel before you see—a retinal ghost, a wrongness in the peripheral.
And Leo understood the forum post.
He stopped sleeping at his desk and started sleeping in his car. But he couldn’t stay away. The machine was a compulsion. He watched the color crawl through the spectrum: rust orange, jaundice yellow, then a queasy chartreuse that made his teeth ache.
But the next night, it was deeper. A marine blue, the color of deep water under ice.