Another blind man entered our lives; for better or worse!

My story begins with the following ingredients;

Blind girl meets blind boy
2 typewriters
One steam train
Braille books
A rehabilitation Centre
Love

A typewriter sits at the foot of my bed. My knees are bent; I'm still wondering how to begin.
Radio four voices orchestrate with the clink and rattle emanating from the washing up bowl.
The whisper of kettle, cuckoo, house sparrow and heavy traffic on the A605 suggests all is well with my world.

I hear the newspaper being pushed hard through our tight letter-box. Henry rushes into the hall-way but he is too late.

My deceased dad's typewriter still has its black worn leather lid firmly on. I wish that this typewriter could talk; if it did then I could understand....but there is nothing to forgive but just a need to find my lost past.

Audrey Esther