It's Here Somewhere, Say's Phoebe, San Antonio NM, April 15, 2010
Found in Travels With LD
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She put the butt end of the flashlight against her forehead, just above the space between her eyebrows. It was something she'd learned long ago about seeing at night. A light shined from there would reveal nothing of herself to a trespasser, and from that spot on her forehead a beam would go straight to the retinas and return to her own eyes the characteristic color of the trespasser's eyeshine. If it had eyes, of course, and if they were looking at her directly.
Prodigal Summer, Barbara Kingsolver