I remember writing a rough draft of this story ages ago, and it wasn’t until today that I found the scrap piece of paper just floating at the bottom of my drawer. It was a task that I had to do for UNI where I was asked to write a short story, in like 5min, with a protagonist who was either mute, deaf, or blind. Let me know what you think? Something is definitely missing 🙂
I wondered if the sky was blue. If it ever shines and sparkles as Jessa says it does. To be able to see it, to know it, as more than a mere word. Would I appreciate it, or be blind to its brilliance?
We are told that the world is bursting with colour. The rainbow, I can recite. But I wonder if we lose the power of a word, when to know is to see? When to see is a mere act of those without comprehension. Without recognition.
And so as it is always, from now until forever – the grass is green. The sun is yellow. And the sky i’m told is blue.