Blinded Beauty

May 28, 2016: Epitome

The epitome of beauty lay before his senses. The man is blind but hears and understands. He knew he was not alone as he sat on the shore. He heard voices ride and crash with the sounds of the sea. Voices of human life and voices of silence he heard in one ear. The other ear lent itself to the sea, both its vastness and its finiteness as its waves crash against the shore in which the old man sits. He feels the sun blanketing his face with a heat made cool by the breeze in the air, carried from the open sea en route to the city behind him. His taste buds still tingle from the coffee his son makes for him every day before escorting him to the foot of the sea. The blind man sits there everyday until the sun comes down, gazing into the beauty he sees.


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