It’d been just a bit over three years since the Great Blinding, when the entire world suddenly became unable to see for no reason. Doctors, scientists, and religious zealots could find no explanation for the event, and though there was a drastic period of adjustment people eventually came to rely on their other senses.

Until today, when Brandon woke up and realized something was different. Something was red.

But that didn’t make sense. Red was a color. Color implied…

With a yelp, he opened his eyes and realized that he could see. For a moment everything blinded him, and he instinctively closed his eyes, pushing his hands towards the light. But slowly, ever so slowly, he peeked out from behind his hands and looked around as his eyes adjusted painfully.

The sunlight streamed into his room, a place he had lived in but not seen for a long time. The rays of light penetrated the curtains, and with a start he realized that they were far dirtier than he had expected. Well, three years had gone by.

Then he turned to look at his room and saw the words on the walls. The same sentence was everywhere: the ceiling, the floor, the door… written in black ink all over the room.

Don’t tell them you can see.

Before he could process the situation, his sensitive hearing heard the shuffling in the hallway. Brandon looked around in desperation, knowing that there was no way he could cover all of the writing before there was a tentative knock on the door. “Brandon?”

Clarisse’s voice echoed out from beyond the door. “I heard your voice and you seemed distressed. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I — I’m not dressed yet,” he said lamely as he looked around for a shirt.

“As though I can see anything,” Clarisse’s tinkling laughter emanated from beyond the door, “Did you have another dream of before the Blinding?”

“Oh. Haha, yes.” It was now that he realized the shirt had this stain on it. He sniffed at it. There was no funky scent at the stained area. No wonder he had been wearing it for so long without knowing. “Isn’t it weird that the only way we can see is in our dreams?” He looked at the words on the wall as he slid out of his bed, feeling along the ground for his slippers out of habit.

It was when he reached for his cane that Brandon realized he didn’t really need it anymore. “Do you miss being able to see? Also, you can come in now.”

“I do, but what’s the point of missing it?” Clarisse opened the door, a hand guiding it along so that the door wouldn’t bang against the wall. Brandon’s eye darted at the place where the doorknob had banged a hole into, then looked at Clarisse as she felt her way in. “Sorry,” she apologized with her eyes closed, “I forgot why I was going to come in. I thought you hurt yourself.”

“I’m not…hurt.” Brandon found himself catching his breath. They had become roommates two years ago and he had instantly fell in love with her voice. But now that he could see her, he realized that she was beautiful. Her ochre hair tumbled down her shoulders in an unkempt manner and there was still the vestige of an imprint upon her cheek where some pillow or other item had pressed against during her sleep. And though her eyes were closed, he could see her long lashes as she felt her way into his room.

“Are you sure?” Clarisse smiled with her own question, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “You seem very out of it today. Is it my turn to make coffee?”

“I..” Brandon paused as the words written on the walls leered at him. “I guess my dream made me miss it. Seeing. I wish I could…” he stopped, then changed tracks. “I guess I’m wondering what part of life we’re missing now that we can’t see.”

“Not the advertising, that’s for sure.” Clarisse’s lips pressed together into a thin line as her eyebrows furrowed. “I hate that the advertisers switched to sound-based ads. It’s a good thing they recently passed that law banning sound-based advertising from residential blocks. Back when we could see, the world was…” she cocked her head to the side, and the two of them heard a dog bark in the distance, before she finished. “Quieter.”