The Way He Saw Her

Chapter 1: Beautiful Girlfriend

Today, my blind friend explained to me in vivid detail how beautiful his new girlfriend is.

It happened in the corner booth of a small café near our old university. Rain tapped against the windows, and the room smelled of roasted coffee, warm bread, and wet coats. Daniel sat across from me, smiling so widely that I could hear it in his voice before I properly noticed it on his face.

“You’re going to like her,” he said.

“You’ve said that four times.”

“Because you keep looking worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

“You’ve been stirring an empty cup for the last minute.”

I looked down. He was right. My spoon was circling the thin brown stain left at the bottom of my cup.

Daniel had been blind since he was twelve. A rare illness had slowly taken his sight, leaving him with only vague memories of color and light. He remembered that the sky was blue, though he once admitted he could no longer picture what blue actually looked like. He remembered his mother’s red winter coat and the bright yellow walls of his childhood bedroom. Everything else had faded into impressions.

We had met during our first year at university when he asked me for directions to the history building. I confidently led him into the mathematics department. Somehow, that mistake turned into an eleven-year friendship.