Here’s another snippet from the short story the Warden’s Lantern:
The light flickered and she could hear Elmer descending the bank in skittering side-steps. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“But my glasses!” Barbara shouted a second too late. The squerch of the frames under his size thirteen boot left no doubt to the location or condition of her spectacles. She jerked backward and yelped as she tore herself out of the brush. Her hand clutched her scalp, feeling for the bald spots where her hair had been torn from its roots. No bare spots, but the rat’s nest had to be attractive.
“Sorry,” he bent down to pick them up, but Barbara was sure they couldn’t be salvaged. “I think one lens is still good.”