Sometimes blindness can be a blissWaddling around my room with my cane I found my chair. My favorite song,"Freebird" is playing on the radio. I have trouble making my own coffee so I drink the packaged cold coffee I bring from store. I am as blind as a bat. Last month when hurricane hit the town, shards of glasses from one of the windows left me blind. Last time I checked my hair was slightly graying. I wonder how do I look now. I live with my nephew, Kevin, who is a carpenter. This house was built by him. Since Freebird is on, I guess it's around 9 PM now. Kevin should have come home by now. I love the old classics. They remind me of times when I was a transcontinental biker. Now I can't even move around in my room without colliding to walls. My nephew calls me "Pinball" because my name is Fin and I collide a lot. Haha funny lad. The songs have ended and it's time for 'interview of today' on radio now. Today's guest is Elon Musk. He's a very smart person I believe as this program was advertised to a great degree. Announcements told me that the interview would premiere on Saturday, 10 PM. Kevin isn't home yet. I would know if he's home. A fresh smell of sawdust comes home along with him after all. Poor lad doesn't have a car. We lost much of our property in that dreaded hurricane and are living with bare minimum. I must be a burden on Kevin. I wish I could stay somewhere else but I don't have a family of my own. Sorry lad. Kids your age spend their Saturday nights partying and you have to come home early to care for your blind uncle. But why is my boy not home yet?
I stood up from my chair and tried to reach my cane. My clumsy hands couldn't reach it. It fell. Feeling for the cane on the carpet, I found that the carpet is wet. I didn't spill anything. I have long stopped drinking whiskey. Wait! This smells like blood. How come I couldn't get the whiff of blood sitting just near it all along? That must mean the blood is fresh. I feel a little more. I feel wetter more. I finally reach the source of blood at the door of my kitchen. I smell sawdust. My eyes won't stop tearing. He didn't enter from the front door. I would have known otherwise. The blood seems fresh and his body is cold. I tried to feel for any abrasion on his body. I felt a deep wound around his neck. It must be a puma. There are a lot in this countryside and puma never leave their prey unattended. Slowly my sorrow transcended into dread. I reached my cane to evade any attacks the lurking puma might make. Even after waiting for what felt like hours the killer never came. Disheartened I fell before my nephew's body weeping. I was so helpless and useless Kevin! The ceiling's dripping. But I don't hear rain outside. It drips on my face. Warm and putrid. Sometimes blindness can be a bliss. She descends down onto the floor and pats my head. I am glad I will never get to see her and get petrified. So I smile at the face of death.
(Blind as a bat is the idiom I used. Blindness can be bliss is also considered an idiom. This is my entry for short story contest.)