The Blind Voyeur (Part Two): Agings and Endings
His breath was heavy as he re-entered the room. He pulled the chair away from the small table which separated us, and I heard the definite scrape of metal on concrete as the interviewer somewhat fell onto the chair. The sound of him straightening his...
The Blind Voyeur (Part One)
I can't remember him not being there. In the morning, in the evening and long into the night, he stood, bathing in his own radiant brilliance that only I saw. As I watched him, I absorbed every awkward nuance of his actions. In the mornings, he would...