The Blind Man

[Shurikane]

To put you into the situation, I had started up a conversation with a blonde at the local pub. I was on a trip to England as a consultant for a marketing company and my meeting had ended early. Therefore, I asked a taxi driver to take me to a warm drinking place, and to wait for me outside.



It turned out that Julia - that was her name - was a self-proclaimed psychic. Although a secretary, she often spent her free time meditating, admiring and fooling around with energy. Her specialty, she said, was in auras, that spectrum of light that surrounded everyone, and the presence and order of certain colors in the aura that tell you about your state, red being the worst, and going through the spectrum until pale blue or lavender, the best.



She asked me how her aura looked tonight. Reluctantly, I had to admit to her that I could not see auras.



"Why not?" She instantly replied.



"Well," I made a quick search for words. "My status confines me to other methods of appreciating art. I, unfortunate man that I am, have never contemplated a painting, examined the colors and markings of a car, or noticed the hints and tones on a picture. Do you understand?"



"Yes, but why can't you see auras?"



"Well, let's go back to the beginning. When I was born, I only had my left eye working, and at the age of five, an accident with a nail completely cut me off. Therefore since that day, I can only navigate through this world using my hearing and my touch. You understand what I mean, don't you?"



"Yes, but why can't you see auras?"



"Well, you got to know that I'm in a bad position to start out with. The first time I heard you mentioning auras, I knew right off the bat I was never going to be able to see them. My body just cannot fulfill the requirements to even getting there. You can understand that, right?"



"Yes, but why can't you see auras?"



I sighed... "I might be able to, if only I could see you in the first place."



At that moment, she fell silent. I was tired of euphemisms, and thus I had laid down the hard facts. The conversation was over. I heard the sound of her footsteps dropping in volume as she walked away. She was muttering "I must've seen a lost spirit" or something of that matter, referring to me as some invisible person only she could see. At the end of it all, without even seeing her, I concluded that the girl was blonde. I was certain of it.



I don't think she ever noticed that I was wearing opaque sunglasses while indoors...