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TITLE (EDIT)
Ocular Dolor |
DESCRIPTION
"Left?"
"Right."
"When?"
"What?"
Benny the doorkeeper in my building was almost completely deaf.
[749 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Mind |
AUTHOR
Ouazan G Skilad |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
none
[November 2005] |
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
Skilad@hotmail.com |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1)
Red (Short Stories) A short story about a professional hitman who has been in the business one job too long. Please take the time to review as this is my first story. [302 words] [Thriller]
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Ocular Dolor
Ouazan G Skilad
““Left?” I asked in disbelief.
“Right.”
“When?”
“What?”
Benny, the doorkeeper in my building, is almost completely deaf.
“WHEN DID SHE LEAVE?”
“Twenty-three minutes ago.”
That was oddly accurate.
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Because,” Benny said in a sarcastic tone, “in my job description it says nothing about stopping anyone from leaving the building.” He put extra emphasis on ‘leaving’.
I could feel the blood rushing to my head. It’s the kind of feeling you get when you’re really angry or embarrassed. He was right though. It wasn’t his fault or even his problem. It was mine.
“Did you see which way she went?”
“Sorry, no.” the doorkeeper said sincerely, seeming to regret the earlier sarcastic remark.
I had to find her. I had to find out where she went. This was the first time she ever did anything like this.
“Well, thanks anyway Benny.”
“No problem Mr. Barker.”
“I’m going out to find her. See you later Benny.”
“Really?” He said in a high pitch.
Great. That’s just what I needed. Another ‘blind joke’. People can’t seem to resist.
At first they’re careful not to say anything offensive, but after a while, well… not so much.
No one likes to be reminded of his handicap all the time. I know I’m blind. I was born blind. There’s a big difference between people who could see and, at some point, lost their sight and those that were born blind. For example: I had a friend that turned blind when he was nine. We were both thirty now. When we first became friends, Jimmy couldn’t understand why I had no idea what the word ‘color’ means. It took me over a year to explain it to him.
“Very funny!”
“Sorry Mr. Barker I didn’t mean…”
“Whatever Benny.”
I really wasn’t in the mood, so I left the lobby through the revolving door and into a flower-delivery-girl knocking her to the ground.
This is what happens when I don’t have my “eyes”.
That’s what I call her. My “eyes”.
Her real name is Jules. She’s a clever bitch and She likes playing games.
Sometimes she takes my cane and sits real quiet in some corner of the house until I find her.
I hate that game. She loves it.
Before Jules I had Sarah. She was the best. Quiet, obedient and she smelled pretty nice too. She was the first thing I felt in the morning and the last thing before I’d fall asleep. Sarah didn’t like games. Her job was the most important thing in the world to her. She died when I was nineteen. She got hit by a car. The last thing she did was push me out of the way.
After that I didn’t leave my parents house for three months.
Anyway… that was then and this is now. I got over it.
Back to Jules. It was obviously pointless to just walk around and call her. I needed a plan.
I decided to go to the place that she likes best. The giant maze in the park. It was my favourite place too. In that maze everybody is blind.
Having only my cane, it took me twice as long as usual to get there. When I got to the maze entrance I hesitated. If Jules wasn’t in there…I had to call her.
“JULES!!!”
From deep within the maze I heard a familiar sound. I know that bark. She was inside. Not only was she in the maze, she was moving too. I had no chance of finding her inside and I knew she wouldn’t come if I called her. Jules found a new game and this one was the worst yet.
I went into the maze and that’s when I woke up.”
My therapist, dr. Bloom, looked at me expectantly as if saying: “and what do you think that dream means?” He did that a lot, but I wasn’t going to give in this time. I gave him the same look he gave me. After what seemed like an endless silence he said:
“You keep dreaming that you’re blind, Jack. Maybe that means you’re not seeing something in real life.”
“Maybe.” I answered.
“What do you think it is doc?”
“That’s what we’re here for Jack. To find it out.” He looked at the grandfather clock behind me and smiled. I turned around to see what was so funny and saw that it was two minutes till three. That meant that our session was almost over. But not quite yet.
“Maybe,”, I said, “I’m not seeing how I’m being swindled out of a hundred euros every week.”
“Maybe.” He closed his notebook.
“See you next week Jack.”
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2005 Ouazan G Skilad |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
November 2005 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2114
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