On a journey, blindly

I'm walking down a highway; it is long and winding, with trees on one side and a quiet, still lake on the other. I know I'm lost but I have no sense of urgency, no panic about my situation. I come upon a bend in the road, and see a homeless man lying on his side. He's a large dirty man, with big black smudges on cheeks and forehead and hands shaped like angry mallets. His clothing is ragged and torn and he's wearing an old faded Army jacket. He sits up as I approach him and holds his hand out to me.

"Have you any food?" he asks.

"I have none. I'm sorry." I tell him. He begins searching the many pockets in his jacket, and comes up with a sandwich bag. He holds it up for me to see; it's one of those with the zipper locking mechanism, to keep the goodies in. Inside this sandwich bag is not a sandwich at all, but several eyeballs. The air has been forced out of the bag, so that the bag has suctioned around the eyeballs and the fluids they are floating in.

I look at the man's face and realize that he has nothing in his eye sockets but bloody, gaping holes. As I watch, the bag develops a leak in one corner. Eye fluid begins to drip from the bag, and I back away from the man. I raise my hands to my face and realize that my own eyes are gone. My fingers push into empty, wet sockets and find no sight there. I turn and run, and he follows after me shouting that I must look into the bag so that I may truly see what is to come.