You see a woman who is blind and is missing an eye. You’re frightened. Even though you’re frightened you stare. Why is it that you stare? Why is it that you frighten? It is something inside of you that tells you she different. I mean look at this women who only sees black; while you see the earth revolve around you, you see the sun, you see the sky, and it just happened that you saw her.


As you see this woman you start to wonder what happen to this woman. Was she born like this? Did she have an accident? As all these thoughts occur in your head, you notice she has dropped something. A book. You want to help but something tells you to wait and observe.

You see as she starts to move her hand gracefully as if she has done it for years. As she pats every surface trying to touch her book you realize the women you were scared if and stared at fir fifteen minutes is not really blind it has been you who has been blind. You felt foolish thinking that the woman was blind, when really she saw through her hands. That world you see through your eyes, is the same world she sees through her hands. You see the colors of the world; while she touches the textures and shapes of the world.