Blind, Chapter 13
The following is a fable, posted in small chapters. If you are new to this story, start with Chapter 1. One morning the sun peeked through the blinds covering our window. I observed how often we tend to block out the light…
Sitting on the floor with his wife, the man felt peace. It was not unlike the moment he experienced that morning, but multiplied a million times over. Similar to the experience outside, but before it became painful. With that realization the warmth came back.
No, no, NO!
It ignored his silent plea. The temperature raised, except it did not originate from the surface of his skin like before. A flame burst deep inside him. His heart was the source point, or at least it seemed like it.
The man could feel his heart pounding. It was loud. He was sure even his children could hear it from the second floor. Each muscle contraction was like a squeeze of lighter fluid on the campfire. Beat by beat it burned farther outward. He had no idea where this was going, and by now became weary of it all. Yet, he was engaged enough to note the peace had not left. There was a sense of safety in all of this. That was about to be tested.
When the hot pool reached his collar bone, something changed. It moved no farther, but consolidated and filled up at his neckline. Reaching a tipping point, it spilled over, separating into two streams that flowed upward towards the base of his skull. He remained perfectly still.
For a moment, the man was worried. He knew what migraine headaches felt like. He used to get them as a kid which ran into his teen years. The doctors could never be able to isolate the issue. They could only experiment with the latest medication. When these failed, his mother tried the homeopathic remedies. She had him take all kinds of supplements and vitamins. As a last resort, he was given ice packs to deal with the headaches. He could not recall when they finally went away, but the memories of staying home while his friends played softball and soccer were readily available. He also remembered the pain.
The back of his eyes were now throbbing. That was the worst thing about a migraine, having the pain so close to the surface yet hiding behind such vulnerable parts. He squeezed his eyelids shut to dull the discomfort. But this was not a migraine, it was different. There was not the acute stabbing which often accompanied those headaches. Instead, His eyes themselves became hot, as if all that emanated from his chest concentrated there. Like it meant to.
His eyes were on fire now. It was the first time he moved his body, bringing his knees up to chest. He covered his face with his hands. His eyeballs felt like they were burning out of their sockets, and then suddenly everything went white.
What was now before his sight was staggering. Flashes of brilliance and colour he could not identify danced before him. It was the complete and total opposite of the black soup he had been in. It is alive. There was so much happening he could not watch it all, but tried desperately. Then to his horror, blackness began to creep back in from the edges.
It made no sense how the display before him could yield to the dark. And yet, it was happening. Arrogantly, the shadow pushed its way into his vision until all that was left was a single point of brilliant light.