Rainy day encounter

by Amy C

I was listening to some vintage Karen Carpenter while puttering around my apartment – blind, of course! And her words just put me in a mood.

What I've got they used to call the blues:
Nothin' is really wrong;
Feelin' like I don't belong;
Walkin' around, some kind of lonely clown;
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

And that is pretty much how I feel. A storm front had cancelled my plans to go simming today. I don’t mind getting a little wet, but unexpectedly stepping into a deep puddle and filling my shoe with water and mud is not fun. Been there, done that – yuck!

The Cane

(Note: this story is based on a concept and a short story written by a woman known as ParaGirl. I have adapted the subject matter, and added a few frills. Cathy, this is in your honor and with thanks!)

by Amy Casseaux

The whole thing began with a big shot of irony, in that I saw it by accident. I was driving along through a neighbourhood and I passed by a garage sale when I saw someone handling a white cane - the kind that blind people use.
I circled the block, trying not get excited. When I came back around the cane was leaning, fully extended, against a table. I parked by the yard sign that said ESTATE SALE and got out, pretended to look at other items first before coming to the table which not only had the cane, but a couple of Braille books and a talking watch. Then I saw the label maker. Yes, it was Braille, too! I'd hit the mother lode!

Holding Hands with the Dream Weaver

Holding Hands with the Dream Weaver

By Amy Casseaux

Blind Vacation

Amy is a very talented author, who writes blind stories. All of her stories are taken from a website that no longer exists. I enjoyed all her stories, although some are no vanilla. So, I hope you will like them, too. This is the second I have read and the second here. 

by Amy Casseaux

The plane thundered down the runway and I felt the nose wheel leave the ground. A moment later, the rest of the wheels left the ground and we began rotating skyward. My fantasy vacation had begun. As soon as we reached altitude, I reached into my bag and removed a cassette player. John Grisham’s latest novel was on tape and I hadn’t heard it yet. My fingers crossed the Braille label and I found the first cassette. Into the player it went.

A trip home

by Amy Casseaux

"Gwen, you really need to make it this year. You haven’t been home in so long that I’ve forgotten what you look like. Every year, you’re too busy to come visit for holidays. You haven’t been to a reunion since you moved away. Five years, Gwen!"
"Mom. I just have so much on my plate right now. I’ve got my own agency to run and things are really taking off. On top of that the home office keeps inviting me back for seminars and speaking engagements. I just don’t have time."
"As the saying goes, ‘money that she cannot spend will make no woman rich.’ Gwen, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you don’t slow down. You are not superwoman."
I smiled at that. If only she knew. My family was even more in the dark figuratively than I was in the literal sense. I wasn’t superwoman, I was super blind woman!