Blind Reader Wanted

by Georgia Le Carre

I was lonely. I wanted to look at a woman who could not see me staring at her. I wanted to be with another human being who could not see my scars. I wanted to hear a woman’s voice in my empty house. Maybe I wanted to know if I could still act like a normal man around a woman after living for years with only wolves for company.

“Have you got naughty reading for the visually impaired?”

“I have scars,” he muttered. “I know,” I whispered. “Scars are not ugly to me. They are just shapes.”