I can't see you

I was in the middle of reading Goodnight Moon, when I looked up, and across the street there was a man wearing black sunglasses, carrying a long stick in front of him and touching things with it. I put my book down, went up to him and asked him what he was doing, he told me this is how he gets around because he can’t see anything.

I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. Instead I took his hand and we went for a stroll in the park.

When I got a bit tired we found a bench and sat.

We sat for a while.

I thought about things in my head.

I asked him if he could see just black, he said:

“I don’t know actually.”

I asked, how he read and he told me:

“With my fingers.”

Then, he pulled out the littlest book and opened it. I saw pages filled with holes.

I didn’t say anything but I thought some more.

Later he asked me if he could touch my face.

I didn’t quite understand but I told him he could.

After a few moments he decided I was sad.

I told him he was wrong, just because I wasn’t smiling didn’t mean I was sad.

Before leaving me he asked:

 “What are you up to these days?”

I told him I was having trouble finding my way home, he laughed and said:

“Yeah, I have this same trouble everyday, trying to find my way anywhere.”