How odd change is, all my remaining days in this dark world and wide. Once, I knew a rainbow realm of all the hues. Once, it was all laughing and running and sweetness in the green, green grass. Truly, I do not mind my blindness—I own a fat album of memories to glory in. And I have sound.
But odd it is on a Sunday afternoon to hear the thud of gleeful hammering and sawing. Labour has become rest. And the true labour of my neighbours, when they are really at work, is silent and digital.
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Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here
Neil MacDonald Author 
You’ve captured both his inner world and his outer world so well. Astute and philosophical observations too.
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THanks so much
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Dear Neil,
Sight and sound well captured.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks so much, Rochelle
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I’ll echo Rochelle here; really well captured.
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Thanks so much
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So many layers of near remorse, acceptance and even belonging. I really enjoyed this, Neil.
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Thanks so much, Violet
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Neil, I enjoyed the sensory telling here, both its presence and its absence.
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Thanks so much, Lisa. I’m glad you saw that
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You’re welcome.
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Thought provoking! I enjoyed reading this. The tone catches my attention.
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Thanks so much, Clare
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The working senses have to pick up the slack. Interesting story, Neil.
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Thanks so much, Will
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lovely write…enjoyed reading it
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Thanks so much, Nandini
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I always enjoy coming here. And this week was no exception. Beautifully done.
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Thanks so much, Sandra
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You have expressed how the progress from sight to blindness has been accepted as an old age expectation.
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Thanks for reading, James
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Wow so visual even without the vision
Beautifully described
And interesting in pointing out the different sounds of work today.
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Thanks so much, Laurie
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Great write Neil – I echo everyone’s feedback🙌
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Thanks so much
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Another lovely write, Neil. Always a pleasure.
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Thanks so much, Nancy.
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i suppose, such is life.
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Thanks, plaridel
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A thoughtful story.
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Thanks so much, Dawn
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