I only went to one of my high school class reunions. Of course when I attended school I was sighted. But I returned as a totally blind man. As I registered at the door someone slapped a sticky tag on my chest. "What's this?" I asked. "It's your name tag", she told me in a voice that suggested I'd just come out from under a pumpkin. "Thanks," I said, "I can't read it myself."
As I wandered in to the large gathering a fellow rushed up to me and bent forward peering at my name tag. "Carl Jarvis?" he asked, "I guess I don't know you."
"Who are you," I inquired pleasantly. But no answer was forth coming. He'd dashed off to find someone he did know. I could sense several other folks pausing to check me out, but no one else spoke. I drifted over to where several people were chatting and laughing together. As I came close, they stopped. From a distance I overheard voices competing with one another, telling of just how successful the speaker had become. Everyone in that room seemed to be bent on letting everyone else know how well they had done in their lives, but while everyone was talking, no one was listening. I peeled my sticky tag off my jacket and walked out the door. "Do you need some help?" The woman who'd stuck the tag on me asked. "This is the exit, did you need the bathroom?"
"I need a breath of fresh air," I said, and headed out the front door, down the school steps and never, ever returned.
Curious Carl
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www.curiouscarlscorner.blogspot.com
www.curiouscarlscorner.blogspot.com
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