What a Blind Man Sees

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Can you see what should be seen?
Or will you fall into a maniacal paranoia, blinded by what shouldn't be seen?

Submitted: March 26, 2014

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Submitted: March 26, 2014

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what a blind man sees

 

January 29th

A phone rings in the stifling darkness. VOICEMAIL: Please leave a message after the beep: daddy mommy daddy mommy hello? I was at granddaddy's and grandmommy's howse and they turned on the noos in the mornin and it said there was a hommishide and a sooishide in the area of our howse and neyboorhud and are you okay? okay? okay?

 

January 24th

Ugh.....

Vision slowly swirled back into my malnourished eyes, they greedily devouring the light and I savoring the sight before me. My wife stood in front of me, wearing a dazzling white dress, a beauty to behold, MY own beauty to behold, in front of a large sized mirror, as I saw my scrawny thin figure, as she looked worriedly into my face, asking, Are you all right honey, the kids (my kids my beautiful kids my precious kids) are worrying about you, you suddenly collapsed after grasping your eyes and you shouted I’m blind, I’m blind, I’m bl----

 

January 25th

Sigh.....

My wife is out again, on her recent daily excursions from the house starting about two weeks ago and she goes out so often for so long i often wond-

Never mind about that. I need to get to work. As I walk outside, the glowing yellow sun shines upon my face and makes me squint into the distance. At work now. Ugh. Work. Work. Work. Work work work work work work why are you still standing there like an idiot go and do something useful you

lazy piece of shit what not going to say anything about it you had better get back to your desk and shut up like a good little boy you are work work work work work work. All right, hell's done. Let's go home now, oh look a coffee shop, oh look it's my wife, wait it's my wife, and is that someone

i see with her, is that Alexand --- dammit I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING IT'S TOO FAR NOW. Well, here's home, i wonder what she was doing there... I slowly scraped into MY house, and whew it's freeeeeeeeeezing in here, the heater isn't working! wait, my wife? Hey there hun, how are you, how was work? She says. I sat there stunned, and a worried look crept into her face and she said Are your eyes okay,they don't hurt again right? I responded quickly, oh no, I’m perfectly fine, how was your day? She says, oh I just had some coffee alone. I cooked a great dinner and the kids are already at grandma's and grandpa's and everything's been cleaned and the weather is so nice and it's warm and toasty inside and and and...

Yeah, sure, whatever, I said back.

 

January 26th

Hmm.

My wife is out again.

Should i follow her, no i can't, but but but, i need to know where she goes and ---

Gathering the courage, i started my car, but not until after the sun stopped glaring into my eyes and shone its light inside, and i took off, following her car. She's at that coffee shop again wearing that dazzling green dress (that I've never seen before or is it white, I can't really see), again, and she's dining, laughing, conversing, with a man... A man? Alexander? The golden boy? The man's man? No way. No way in hell. No goddam man is going to take this woman from me, not even Alexander, the golden boy, the man's man. SO this is where she's been going to all this time. She's been doing this to ME? How could she how could she how could she this is blasphemy I’m the man here. She's mine and not yours buddy, and I was going to walk inside and bust him up but then i realized that i would actually have to speak to him and i would actually have to do something and everyone will see and no no no i can't do it, i can't take the shame and the pressure and EVERYTHING. I sulkily walked back to my dull yellow car, hanging my head in dejection, and drove back home.

 

January 27/28th

No man will take this woman from me. NO MAN WILL TAKE THIS WOMAN FROM ME. THIS WOMAN IS MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE........

I laid in bed, my wife not home yet, ugh, probably Alexander probably driving her home, to a house, a house, a house. If I can't have her then no one else can no one else NOBODY NOBODY NOBODY! I walked outside and went to the bar, drinking, drinking drinking. I finally went home at 3 in the morning, never feeling more sober in my lifetime. I can't touch Alexander, he's too strong, too manly, what can i even do against that? No no no no no I’ll just leave him alone alone alone, alone? Me? Alone? No. Never. Nevernevernevernever--- I looked at my gray house and walked inside and walked upstairs and saw her, laying in the bed in a dazzling white dress (has it been white all this time?), MY bed, and I couldn't stand how something not mine was in mine and I strolled to the drawer, and pulled out the gun. It lied there, stone, unmoving, inanimate, nonliving.

 

A letter arrives at the house in the afternoon:

I know I haven't been home recently, and this is why, I've been meeting with Alexander and he's one of the best optometrists in the country and he says he has a treatment to make your eyes better and the whole past month I’ve been filling out the paperwork and everything and maybe you'll be well

enough for us to go on that love trip we planned, right? Hun?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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