Blindness

 

The wheelchair lift broke. The girl in the wheelchair was securely fastened - but

backwards. She faced her peers and prayed. Time was dying. Slowly. A long

line of walkers stood. Waiting. The awkwardness of a spilled glass or a fart.

Her fault. She broke the lift. She felt. She waited the same as them. She

hoped the door would be fixed and open. Let them in. Let them sit.

 

The lift was fixed. She fixed it in her mind. The bus was moving. The bus was

full. People stood and talked. Laughed. They forgot about the wait. About her.

One walker, stander, stood next to her. His bag kept running into her head.

Once he said sorry. Then he turned back. He turned his back and resumed

a conversation with the another female walker. She couldn't see her face from

where she sat.