016. ...not a fast road but...

(microfiction)

Inaction.

That’s unusual, from my desk I can see a young blind man walking, with his white stick oscillating back and forth in front of him scanning the ground. He is in the middle of the road striding purposefully up the hill.

The road isn’t a busy one and the pavements are narrow and it’s Friday, so bins are out. I often walk on the road on a Friday. But I’m not blind.

Cars pass regularly down the road from where he was headed and into the view framed by my window. It’s not a fast road but people do sometimes speed. I think perhaps I should warn him, but would he take offence? “I’m blind not stupid” he might say. And besides, I’d have to open the window and shout. How would I phrase that? “Hey, you, blind boy in the road!” maybe. It’s hard to shout compassionately. That would be my concern, that he’d misunderstand my intentions. He’s gone now anyway. Too far up the road probably. Past where I could see even if I opened the window and leant right out.

I think maybe I should write to the council and suggest speed bumps on that road. The cars come down there far too fast actually. Every day, now that I think about it. I see cars speed down that road all the time. It’s actually quite a busy road. I wouldn’t walk up it with my eyes closed.

Although, actually, no cars have come down for a wee while now. That’s unusual.