Five sentences on beauty after many near-sleepless nights and a fun and productive but tiring weekend
Senses of Self
She had expected her adjustment to total blindness to be
devastating, and at first it had
been, but then the absence of sight became
part of her. As they waited for the doctor, she drummed her fingertips on the
familiar textured wall and reached over to squeeze her husband’s warm, denim-covered
thigh. Sight, she realized, like hearing, was passive, but the purposeful physical
connection of touch revealed true beauty and understanding without misdirection.
“Come on,” she said rising from the chair and extending a hand, “I don’t need
to be fixed.”
Both of his hands closed around hers as he rose, murmuring,
“No, you don’t.”
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