She entered the hospital room where her husband lay, his eyes bandaged from his accident at work. As she sat beside his bed, he took her hand in his. “Well!” she thought, pleasantly surprised. “He hasn’t been this affectionate in years!” She began talking.
Then he exclaimed, “Oh, it’s you!”
Thomas A. North avoids marital troubles the easy way: by remaining a bachelor. This story has appeared at itrhymesattimes.wordpress.com.
When I visited my blind brother, he was sharpening his shooting skills. He was so embarrassed; he couldn’t hit a thing.
I pulled my pen out and placed it in his sweaty palm. I said, “Take this pen, brother, so that you may draw targets around the holes you make.”
George S. Karagiannis was born in Thessaloniki, Greece and is currently a PhD student at the University of Toronto in Canada. He enjoys writing science-fiction (in an non-professional level, so far) in the subgenres of hard science fiction, bizzarro and apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic settings.
He stood amid chaos, tumult, and noise, hearing nothing.
A voice passed through his mind. “Speak your wish, and your hearing can be restored to you.”
He looked around him, at the lights, movement, and stone-eyed faces. “Do not restore my hearing,” he said. “Please take my sight, as well.”
This story is based on a title suggested by @PanzerVaughn.
It was torturous sensory overload.
All the colours of the rainbow (along with a few nonconformist hues) strobed across a brightly illuminated screen. Dissonant, detuned tones blared and shrieked on powerful speakers.
He’d been told he was disabled, ineffective, useless. But the deaf, blind secret agent knew: ignorance is bliss.