A week ago,my motley group of friends were having our usual array of fast food lunches and a few members of the group had scattered off to say hello to people out side our little circle. Tho they had removed their presence, in true teenage fashion, their junk remained. Backpacks, purses, empty cups, books lay strewn across the floor where we were sitting. This was not seen as odd, as it was assumed everyone would return and pick up their things before leaving.
So it was my dear friend Kayte, the new boy and I sitting among the rubble of adolescent life, Kings of the discard and forgotten. We didn't mind it was warm, and the sunshine was coming through the glass like light in a prism, dancing on the trees and our noses. What did we care of a little congestion? The day was young and we were young. The day was beautiful and so were we. The universe felt as if it were built for the young and indestructible, like us.
Along came a man with a red and white stripped cane. He could not see the sun dancing in the sky, he couldn't see the laughing young people and he certainly could not see their stuff. The man was blind, and he walked right in to a discarded backpack. I watched in utter horror as he struggled to figure out what had wrapped around his ankle as the bag slipped further around his leg. It must have only been seconds of his struggling with the cane but it felt like years, i couldn't watch him struggle like that.
"Excuse me sir, i think you've gotten caught up in a back pack, let me help you out," I said reaching to remove the bag. "I am so sorry, I hope I didn't break anything," is all he said, turning to me in earnest, sky blue eyes boring through my soul in concern for a stupid backpack. "No not at all sir." Then he smiled, and carried on maneuvering slowly but surely to a pack bench, where he sat, folded his hands behind his hand, closed his eyes and turned to the sky. He couldn't see it, but i think he could feel it. The same sun dancing on his nose as it was on mine.
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