Her face melted in the sun, or rather, his perception of her melted, as did most faces if he stared at them for too long. Other objects might change in color, like this one time when a blue mailbox became a brilliant orange-red, or the yellow cabs all shifted hue toward green. But things still remained what they were: stoplights still stopped traffic, pencils still wrote, and keys unlocked doors. People were problematic. Meeting someone, whether for the first time or for the hundredth time, he could remember their names, while talking to them, up until the point where their faces started to melt. Without the visual cues of eye color, shape of nose and chin, mouth turned up or down or in-between, he lost all sense of who he was talking to. This dissolving effect could happen at any time, even at home with his family; except when he looked at his mom. Her face never melted.