I am blind. I can't see past the black wall my eyes seem to endear. A hedge of obscurity that prevents me from seeing life itself. My hand has fallen on a foreign object and I cringe away from it, my eyebrows in a swordmatch posture. I can't remember when I started resenting learning new things, it was such a long time ago. The feel of each new object I touch is long gone and I can't help but grimace at the thought.

I reach out for the door, holding my stick in one hand and prompting the door to open in the other. I extend the cane on the floor and search the ground for anything tricky. Nothing I find and I start to walk.

It is a routine I have formed for myself, perhaps to avoid feeling detached and introverted in life. An hour for walking, another for jogging and a third for meditating or in my case, listening.

I like hearing people's voices, blabbering, drawling, slurring, muttering, mumbling and murmuring and if I get lucky, I can even hear whispering. Gossip lingers in the air, especially that from old women who enjoy having tea while scrutinizing every person who walks by their side, I suppose.

"Good morning," I hear someone but I can't figure whether it was directed at me or at some other person so I just nod in acknowledgment.

However, I sense warmth, not a warm breeze but like a shawl of aura that emits from the human body and I immediately detect that someone is actually talking to me. I stop in my track and try to place the source of the warmth, I don't want to look like an idiot and slash my hands in the air so I stand quietly and remember the tone of the voice. A boy, definitely a manly voice but he doesn't give me the chance to distinguish his voice and says, "You're out for a walk?"

Ah, I recall. Ian, if I remember well, is his name. It has been such a long time. I nod and ask, "Where did you materialize from? I thought you left town," I smile rustically.

I hear a short intake of breath and can only assume he smiles back and says, "Nope, it's just I changed paths. I found a shortcut to school but since I woke up early, I thought I might come here,"  

Nodding again, I start to walk, in consideration to the time for him to reach his school. We both are high school students but I am being homeschooled due to my inability but I think he is a year older than me. I listen to his heavy footsteps fall on the pavement as he walks by my side, my hands tremble as I sense his arm near mine. We walk for several minutes in silence, the only sounds that relish my ears are the chirps of sparrows and finches and his escalating speed of breathing. He begins to whistle then stops, "Oh, there it is. See you later, Yumi,"

I smile timorously, I thought he has forgotten my name. I stand for two minutes then I turn and start to walk.

As I take short paces around the park I visit often, my cell phone rings and I pick it to hear my mother's voice on the end. She is bawling over something and so I push the receiver closer to my ear and say, "Calm down, momma, what's going on?"

"Your brother is on TV again, look at him he's so cute and adorable," she exclaims.

I roll my eyes and laugh at her blandly and tell her that she is exaggerating. She cranks at me with sarcastic sentences that sometimes don't make any sense and then asks where I am, "I'm at Springs Brook park," I answer as I support myself with the help of a tree trunk.

"Don't be late," she says and I notice the slight change in her voice.

"Momma, record the program that has brother on, I'd like to hear it later," I say quickly before she hangs up.

…

"be careful, there's a jagged piece of wood," he takes my hand and snatch it away quickly from the log.

"Taec, you're so annoying. You must be lying. Give me back my hand," I wail as he presses my hand in his.

He doesn't talk for a while but he reluctantly releases me. I think he sits and doing that he does it quietly, like he doesn't want to disturb me.

"Yumi," he begins. "I wasn't lying," and I can hark his broken octaves. "There …," he sniffs and continues, "There really were sharp ends,"

My eyebrows furrow in confusion and I search his voice only to detect that it is a bit farther away and I'm scared to move, so I simply call in hesitance, "Taec," my hands involuntarily flailing in the air in search for my brother.

"I'm sorry you can't see it, Yumi,"

My eyes widen and I don't know why but I start to laugh immoderately, "I don't recall it was your fault, Taecyeon. You shouldn't be sorry," I pat the transparent existence of air fatuously.

…

I pull myself unwillingly from my reverie and direct my eyes earthward, I presume. Incessantly do I think about Taecyeon. Often do I wonder what he looks like and how much different do I look from him. I think about the times when we were little and he would describe my face to me and allows me to mar his face with my hands and I can't help but smile to myself.