Joelle's last walk — "The rain’s wet veil blurs things…"
The rain’s wet veil blurs things like Jim had designed his neonatal lens to blur things in imitation of a neonatal retina, everything recognizable and yet without outline. A blur that’s more deforming than fuzzy.
Context
The weather quoting her: the rain wears a veil too, and it blurs the world the way Jim's lens blurred her — with the theme's own word, "deforming," assigned to the optics. Veil, lens, and deformity braided into one sentence two pages before she plans to die on camera-grade memory.