My wonderful readers, I always look so forward to sharing a story with you:)
I have a little reveal once today’s is over, so, see you on the other end…;)
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Richard looked to the wide-open night sky, a sense of deep gratitude as he took in the amazing display of that picture-perfect pale moon, countless stars so diverse yet all breathtaking!
He was now a participant in a number of physical activities he had once known, including:
Back in his ol’ neighborhood, out on the street with a bunch of other kids, “Hike!” giving the signal for all to scatter about, Richard running fast and far while looking to his back, seeing everything so sharp, so clearly, the quarterback releasing the football high into the air, the Nerf spiraling like a heat-seeking missile, somehow, someway finding his hands perfectly for a touchdown!
Dribbling a basketball down a court of sneaker-screeching teens, side-stepping, pivoting, seeing that netted hoop from a three-point distance, eyes signaling to the brain, brain signaling to his arms, legs, feet, hands, just what to do to ensure the ball finds nothing but net!
Richard as a young man, the joy of driving as he basks in his beautiful ability to use depth perception, the wide open road inviting him to anywhere he sees his future going.
But I’m legally blind…
Ah yes, the left side of the brain, the logical side, allowing only so much fantasy before it reminds Richard of his reality, the truth giving his subconscious no choice but to give way as he wakes to the blur of his world now, the days of his youth, the days of being visually free a thing of the past.
And so he starts his day, rinsing his face, looking to see that he at least still has the same level of remaining sight he did when going to bed the night before. Grateful for such, he’s eager to get to work. To sit down with magnifying glass in hand, holding it up to the one eye that still works and bending over to the table in front of him, until he’s less than an inch away from the paper he’ll use to tell today’s story on, his other hand taking aim with ballpoint pen.
There was a time when he could write for hours on end, adding to even more hours and hours of reading, honing his art, his craft, his passion. But nowadays he has to pace himself, only having so much time for each before that remaining sight begins to strain, giving him no choice but to retire from his love for the day.
And so he heads out into the world by way of public transportation to run his daily errands, careful with just about every move he makes, the steps he takes, the distances he judges, all taken with caution, for the graceful movements he once displayed are now lost to a condition that affects the retina, a condition not obvious to the strangers around Richard, who are so quick to bark at him if he happens to not avoid their sudden change in direction, or their impatience when he must take a few extra seconds to find the right coins in his pocket, to look down at a curb and make sure it doesn’t send him falling over into the busy street of drivers enjoying the wide open road.
If only the world knew just how hard life could become…
If only the world knew he was giving it his absolute everything to share with them his gift of storytelling…
If only they knew.
Sometimes storytelling is at its best when it’s autobiographical, with art imitating life being the best stroke of substance to share with the reader. Well, for today’s story I decided to go in such a direction. Yes, Richard’s story is actually based on my real story, all of which is chronicled in my autobiography, Power of the Pen. Normally priced at $2.99 on Amazon, but FREE to all followers of this blog:)