I'm Cieca, it's pronounced Say-kah. When I was born, my eyes didn't develop correctly which lead to me being blind. I can see shadows and light, though, the rest is just a mystery to me. As ironic as it is, I'm an artist. I close my eyes and paint in a movement that describes my emotions, like, if I'm mad my movements would be quick and sharp looking, at least so I was told.
I moved in with my brother, Genere (Jane-ner-ray). He helps me maneuver around people and objects when it's dark. When it's daytime, I'm on my own. I like to go down to this coffee shop, the people there are sweet and we're all acquaintances there. They are sweet enough they customized my own Braille-Menu.
Sometimes, on the contrary, I feel left out. I'm legally blind. I can't use a phone. I mean, I can use an actual phone to call my brother, but I'm talking an actual cell phone. I see the silhouette of my brother, sitting on the couch, looking into this metal plate. People can do this for hours, I can't tell why and I'll never know. Personally, I think the power of sight is underrated. I bet you, too, stare at metal plates 24/7. Why?
If only I met someone who felt just as left out, we would talk for hours on the things, why, it would be amazing. I know there's people like me, but that's hard to believe considering I've never met them. What I would give, to see, even if was only for one day, is unimaginable. All I have to say, be thankful. Be thankful that you can see, be thankful that you can watch the sunrise and the sunset. And please, please, please, use your eyes for more than the metal plates. Watch the nature and the surroundings of yourself right now, take note of it too.
And that's all I got for now...BTW this is the first book I've EVER published, so stay in tune for the next chapter!
YOU ARE READING
The Blind and the Mute
Storie d'amoreA blind artist meets a mute musician and fall in love. Though it's hard to communicate they try their hardest to bend at the others needs.
