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First Sight

Some time ago my heart skipped. Not just one beat, but three or four. I stood without a beating heart for a good while when I stared at the sky. It was just like the others had told me, when I looked and tried and peered around.
“How do you describe color?” they’d ask. “Try.” I’d press. And they would, God bless them they would, but it’s not the same. Red isn’t just the crunch of gum in your ear no, it’s a brilliant slap across the face followed by a yellow rush of adrenaline and green socks made of snow.

When I started breathing again and my heart started beating again I ran towards the others. “Look, there!” I shouted. “Look, the sky!” They didn’t listen, or they didn’t look. “See, see here, the rainbow.”
“There isn’t a rainbow.” One of them called.
“Is too, I saw it.”
There was a hand on the shoulder, and a whisper the color of guilt.
“Benny, dear,” it said. “You’re blind.”

(C)




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