3
“Love and love well.”
I get on the train and when I come to an empty seat I find the tall man with the unbuttoned shirt and the white cane sitting across from me with a book in his hands. I thought he was blind. How could he be reading if he is blind? I watch him for a few moments glancing down at the book through his black sunglasses before my curiosity finally gets the best of me and I find myself collecting all of my things in my hands and making my way over to him.
“Excuse me Sir.” I try not to stutter, because when I stutter my French accent begins to become less and less understandable.
The young man’s attention drifts to the sound of my voice as he slowly turns toward me. “Yes?” There is a smirk on his lips and a strong British accent on his tongue.
“I don’t mean to sound nosy, but um-”
“Spit it out love.” He teases causing me to blush.
“I thought you were blind.”
“I am.” He chuckles flipping another page in his unknown book.
“Then how are you reading a book?”
“I’m not.” He smiles looking up in my exact direction.
“Forgive me Sir, I just don’t understand-”
“I carry this book around because it makes me feel normal. It brings me a sense of comfort to know that at least maybe I can look the part. And I hope that maybe someday I will open up to one of the random pages and everything will come flooding back. Every word will purify with every second that passes and I will be able to see again.”
“That’s beautiful.” I mumble to myself.
“So are you.”
“You don’t even know me.” I almost whisper.
“I don’t have to know you to know that you are beautiful my dear. To be honest, you are probably one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.” He chuckles at his small joke. “You’ve blinded me with your beauty.”
A small laugh escapes my lips. I like how he can joke around about his situation. But before I can respond the announcer on the intercom system begins to speak telling everyone we are coming up on our next stop, my stop.
“Well.” I sigh looking back down at the stranger. “Thank you so much for answering my, um, question but this is my stop so.”
“No thank you for asking.” He insists, flashing a cheeky smile.
I adjust my book and bag in my hands, preparing to exit the train but before I leave, I take a step back to take one last look at the handsome stranger before saying, “By the way, normal is so cliché.” I can hear my accent seep through the words. And I am guessing he can too.
He smirks and we exchange gentle ‘goodbyes’ before I descend from the train. My mother’s words digging through my mind, “Aimer et de bien aimer.”
“Love and love well.”
YOU ARE READING
Senseless | H.S
Teen Fiction“I thought you were blind.” “I am.” He chuckles flipping another page in his unknown book. “Then how are you reading a book?” “I’m not.” He smiles looking up in my exact direction. “Forgive me Sir, I just don’t understand-” “I carry this book around...
