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Flash Fiction , by KenWeene
Scottsdale, AZ US

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Flash Fiction

Blind

Empty! Some towns are like that an emptiness in the soul. Standing on the corner looking up and down the main drag. Nothing. Up and down the side street. Nothing. Just the oppression of the place, like even the dust had given up.

I walked north. I could have boxed the compass; it wouldnt have mattered. I walked north and hoped.

Two blocks and he was standing there. Another corner, just as empty, just as lonely, except there he was his white cane extended into the roadway. Did he think there was somebody around to see it? Somebody whod have to stop?

Still, there he was, cane extended and waiting waiting for what? The sound of brakes? A horn? Maybe just somebody to come along. Blind is a lonely place to be.

I touched him on the arm. Need help?

Nope.

Safe to cross the street. Did he need my reassurance?

Yep. He groped for my arm, curved his left hand over my bicep.

We stood a tableau of non-communication.

Shall we? I asked knowing it didnt matter.

Yep.

We stood a moment longer life lived in ellipses.

I took a step. His hand tightened. His arm offered feeble resistance. A tap with that long cane. Then he followed. Off the curb and into the street.

I took our time. He didnt complain.

Across the street four lanes and ample parking too big for a town twice the size.

My knee bent, I waited before I mounted the curb waited for him to tap twice, to figure the height. His leg cocked, too.

We had veered off course just a bit, enough. The storefront was empty. Once there had been computer repairs. Why would anyone who could actually work on computers open shop there? For that matter, why would any one?

I stared at the storefront read the signs slowly ripping and peeling in the windows. Was it possible to see nothing happen?

Which way are you headed? I asked.

Dont matter. Nowhere to go.

Aint that the truth?

We stood. I stared at the storefront. He stared, too. At what can a blind man stare? Nothing is nothing.

Whats your name? I asked.

Blind, he answered.

I know, but whats your name?

Blind. Thats what they called me. Seemed to make sense explain stuff right up front.

Oh.

Yep.

I guess Id best be getting along. Theres a discomfort. Sometimes a fellow ends up mentioning the weather; sometimes he just decides its time to move along.

I guess Id best be getting along. I repeated myself.

Blind said nothing.

I turned to the left. He turned with me.

Tap & tap & tap.

Who was leading whom?

We moved down the street. The town was empty. Some towns are like that an emptiness in the soul.

(c) 2012

Description: I love writing flash fiction. It seems to me that life is often lived in vignettes. However we may want to see ourselves as heroes of great novels, it is the snapshot that really counts.

Photo Posted: Nov 13,2012 Photo Viewed: 359

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