Tales of the Lost & Forgotten

Granted

* A/N- the idea for this was from just seeing how so many people out there take what they have for granted. Than there are those not  so fortunate who have nothing.... so   what would you do for the thing you want the most.* ( also another pieace I wrote for an animation class to turn to a short animation video )

The old man hadn’t given much thought to being blind, since he lost his sight so long ago. So long ago that he questioned if the sky was really blue, he even forgot what the colors of Autumn looked like. It didn’t bother him much, until the day death himself knocked on his front porch.

A thunder storm was forming outside his country home, he could hear it in the distance. The sounds of rain slowly hitting the windows, echoed off the old oak walls, filling his old ears with the sweet cry of mother nature. White milky eyes fixated on nothing, the old man was still caged in darkness.

He anticipated a good storm once in a while, he enjoyed the scents of rain and fresh earth that drifted to his noise. He loved feeling the vibrations his house made with each crack of thunder that ripped through the sky. But that day, he didn’t feel right.

He was scared and shaking, for with each crack of the thunder, the vibrations went straight to his old knees and shot up rattling around in his chest, stealing his air- making it hard for him to breath. The smell of rain didn’t seem as pleasing anymore like it did before, instead it made him sad, because he wished he could see the tiny droplets of dew collecting on soft green tuffs of grass. He craved beauty and color that very second, it wrenched at his gut and played with his old feeble mind.

What he’d give for a glimpse of color, even for the cost of his very life. The old man let out a silent cry, letting the tears fall slowly from his glazed white eyes. Another crack of thunder ripped and at the same time the old man felt his presence. He could feel deaths icy breath on the back of his neck.

Death played the old man, had him wager, his life for a glimpse of color. The mans face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Lips stretched over stained yellow teeth, and his eyes crinkled at the corners showing spider web lines.

Another crack of the thunder lashed through the sky, and with that the old man seen the first flashes of pink and blues decorate the sky. He watched the roll of a thunderous black cloud eat away at the last remaining blue of the sky. The old man cried with joy, for he had got his wish. Sadly though this only lasted a few seconds, and oh how he ached to savour the moment.

The man held his fixed gaze at the sky, for his vision started to blur at the edges. There weren’t any vibrant colors anymore, instead they were replaced with washed out grays and blacks. The mans vision tunnelled for a second, wavering for a moment before finally everything went black.

The man heaved, and with a gasp, muttered a simple… “thank you”