He wasn’t born blind.

But it felt like it had been so much longer than a lifetime since he was last blessed with the gift of sight.

                It was something people would always take for granted; Kris mused as he sat on his usual bench in his favourite park. He kept his eyes closed because opening them would just be flat out pointless. He longed to see what this park looked like – just how many trees were there, what kind of flowers bloomed amongst the bushes. Lay had patiently described it as detailed as he could muster when he first came there and Kris had appreciated the younger man’s efforts. He just wished it would be enough all the time.

He hated this feeling; the one of deprivation.

                Being blind was not all that bad. He had to admit that. He had learned to appreciate the simplest things in life. He had learned to trust his other senses, his intuition and his gut. It was those aspects of who he was he treasured the most because he knew not everyone had them. The idea comforted him.