Written for Muse on Monday where David asks us
to write a story from the perspective of a blind person.
Tag: Blind
Walk Of Life
Written for Only Murders In My Mind Weekly
Writing Prompt #72; the photo shown below
is our prompt. Hereβs where the image took me.
SEE ME, FEEL ME

My husband Sam and I were hosting our usual Friday night dinner with friends, something weβve been doing for several years. Sam is a psychology professor at NYU and I manage Dahliaβs, an eponymously named floral shop.
Our weekly dinner companions are Claude and his wife Piper who own a small eclectic bookstore called The Paper Trail and Austin and Rebecca who have been engaged for seven years. Rebecca is a music teacher at a private school in Manhattan and Austin is a graphic designer. We keep asking them βWhenβs the big day?β but neither one seems to be in a rush.
Our dinner conversations are always lively, touching on a variety of topics. This particular evening, Sam said βI asked my class this question today: βIf you had to choose between being deaf or being blind, which would you choose?β Now, my friends, Iβd like to know how you would answer that question.β My husband β ever the provocateur! Perhaps thatβs what I find so stimulating about him.
Well, no big surprise, no one said anything for a moment; this was a profound question. I finally decided to break the ice by responding. βFor me, as a florist, I would have to say Iβd choose to be deaf. I need to see the arrangements Iβm creating, which color flowers go well together, the best bouquets to match bridesmaidβs dresses, even something as simple as placing flowers in the right vase. I wouldnβt have to hear the bell on the shopβs front door or the telephone ring; both can be hooked up to a light to get my attention. And customers could always email or text me with their orders. Why, I could even communicate with my customers via tablets in the shop. Iβd still be able to see and smell all the beautiful flowers, meet my customerβs expectations and take pride in my creations.β
Spurred on by my answer, Austin chimed in. βExactly! I totally agree with Dahlia. In the field of graphic design, I would be incapable of working without the ability to see. These days there are so many electronic devices we can use to communicate; I donβt think being deaf would interfere with my life or my work at all.β
Immediately Rebecca countered what we said. βI get where the two of you are coming from but I could never teach music if I were deaf. Iβd be able to place my fingers on the correct piano keys or strum the right strings on a guitar because Iβve been making music all my life. Itβs second nature to me. But I wouldnβt want to exist without the sound of music, to hear my students playing, to correct their mistakes or praise their achievements. It would be impossible for me to conduct an orchestra, not knowing if the violins should be a little louder or the bassoons pianissimo. Austin, if you were deaf, you wouldnβt hear the wedding march when I walk down the aisle or hear me say the words βI doβ.β
Austin was quick to reply. βAs long as I could see your radiant face in your gorgeous wedding gown carrying the beautiful bouquet designed by Dahlia, thatβs all that would matter. And as far as hearing you say βI doβ, I would read your luscious lips before tenderly kissing my new bride.β
We all laughed as Sam exclaimed βNice save, Austin! Claude and Piper, weβve yet to hear from you. Whatβs your poison β deaf or blind?β
As if on cue, both Claude and Piper declared their answers at the same time; he said βDeafβ; she said βBlindβ. They stared at each other in bewilderment and the rest of us couldnβt help but laugh at the expressions on their faces. Of course Sam had to keep the game going by saying βAt last! Some controversy, a little gasoline on the fire of our conversation. Letβs keep this ball rolling!β and he poured everyone a fresh glass of wine.
Claude cleared his throat. βPiper, mon cher, we own a bookstore! How can you possibly say you would choose blindness over deafness? Mon Dieu! Have you forgotten how we bonded at that little book shop in Paris β¦ what was the name? Ah! La Manoeuvre! We both reached for the same book of poetry by Paul Eluard and when our eyes met I knew I could never look away.ββ
βOh, my darling Claude. I could never forget La Manoeuvre. You read poetry to me and time stood still. It was as though we were the only people in that shop. Our love for books is why we bought The Paper Trail; that store is our baby. I know each book on every shelf and have read most of them. The feel of the paper, the smell of the leather-bound first editions, hearing you read to me β I do not need sight to love a book.β
Piper and Claude moved closer to each other and embraced, momentarily forgetting they were not alone. They kissed, then pulled away, embarrassed. Piper blushed and gave a breathless laugh.
βClaude, do you remember the books I had in my bag the day we first met?β Piper asked.
Claude nodded and said βOui. One was βWuthering Heightsβ in Braille and the other was French sign language. They were for your parents.β
Piper looked around the room at the rest of us and explained. βMy mother is blind and my father is deaf. Somehow they never had trouble communicating; I suppose they spoke the silent language of love. Thatβs why I was so passionate about having a Braille section in our bookstore. Also, there is new technology to help both blind and deaf people enjoy a movie or television.β
Turning to Claude, Piper said βAs long as I can hear your voice, it doesnβt matter if I never see another thing again.β
We all felt a little in awe of Piper at that moment. We sipped our wine, captivated by the sounds of silence.
NAR Β© 2022