To Be Blind

A Chapter by Joseph Morrow

Fedor now sat and thought about the acceleration of time and began to wonder; why was it that time chose to present itself in such a way? Why isn't reality’s chronology structured in terms of a different variable? He could not comprehend what other structure could organize events but nonetheless, the question was still valid. He was dizzied, suddenly struck by the oddity of the world and how it chose to present itself. Every detail of reality seemed abruptly and conclusively strange.

As Fedor closed his eyes for a rest in his chair (for he had had an exhausting day) an odd thought struck him, as they often did, for Fedor was a clever man.

The thought was this: “Oh how nice it must be to be blind, the blind can truly see. They don’t deal in the ugliness of the world. They’re judgement is not clouded by sight. In their world people are simply people, judged by their words and actions, not by appearances. How the world looks may be completely trivial after all.”

And with this last thread of thought he slipped into the perfect solitude of sleep.

That night Fedor dreamt of peculiar things. After a number of dancing objects floated away Fedor quite suddenly found himself in a sea of men; small, insignificant men, bending in the wind as blades of grass in an enormous field. Faceless, indistinguishable, and uniform, these humans covered the land. The whole world was covered with these fields of men waving at the whim of a soft, crooning breeze. At times he convinced himself that this situation was regular and he slipped into the sublime, ignorant bliss of a singular blade of grass swaying rhythmically with the pleasant breeze. At times the field of men struck him as highly irregular in his experiences with reality. In one of these such times Fedor caught a string of reality hanging from the sky, tugged at it, and began to think, as he so often did. “I’m not in my chair, in fact I’m not in any chair at all” Fedor thought. “In fact, I don’t seem to even be within the boundaries of reality”. Something clicked into place; gears whirred, pistons fired, and a realization was made. “Why this is most certainly a dream. How very odd. Reality has awoken in a realm of nonsense, how utterly paradoxical. Something must be done. Everything must be done!” And with that in mind, Fedor did something he had always wanted to do; he lifted his feet off the ground and walked towards the sky. He became master of nonsense by bringing a piece of reality into absurdity, he was flying. “What an extraordinary phenomenon, I should indulge more regularly” Fedor reflected. As quickly as his excitement had arisen, it was extinguished. The reality of the situation had been too much for the realm of absurdity to handle. Or perhaps it was the other way around. No matter, it was over and Fedor slipped back into a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep, his absurdly real incident to be forgotten until he awoke.

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© 2015 Joseph Morrow

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Coyote Poetry

I agree.
"The thought was this: “Oh how nice it must be to be blind, the blind can truly see. They don’t deal in the ugliness of the world. They’re judgement is not clouded by sight. In their world people are simply people, judged by their words and actions, not by their appearances. How the world looks may be completely trivial after all, it’s all superficial.”
Vision create thoughts and direction. Blindness would make us judge with different senses. I liked your thoughts and left the reader with something to think about. This is the best kind of writing. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote