Blind

I had a dream the other morning that I needed to have surgery on my eyes.

Instead of a hospital, I went to a hotel in an unfamiliar, nondescript city to have the procedure.

When it was done, my eyes were sewn shut. I couldn't see. I didn't even know if I still had eyes.

I didn't know where to go to start the healing process, and I didn't know whom to ask.

I decided I needed to take an elevator somewhere, but I didn't know which floor. And now that I was in search of the right location, I realized how vulnerable I was.

Everyone could see I had no way of knowing where I was going. And this wasn't a hospital. No one was going to be trying to find me to help me.

It was terrifying.

I finally got myself to a higher level of the hotel. I went into a room and my brother was there. He was listening to cassette tapes, songs he played for me. They were from when we were younger. Songs that reminded me I was not alone.