The Content of Their Character

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I heard my sister clear her throat nervously, and her husband shifted uncomfortably beside her. Around us, the general hum of people in the cafeteria didn’t distract me from my three visitors.

My nephew Kenny vented a gusty sigh of boredom. My sister Vera probably shot him a warning look, because he made an annoyed noise in his throat.

“So,” Vera said in an artificially bright tone, “what are your plans for this weekend, Jim?”

“Nothing much,” I said. I never had anything much. I’d probably just sit and feel bad. I scrambled for something else to say. Visits from my sister and her family were horrible, but they were all I had, and I was terrified of losing them. “Maybe I’ll listen to the radio,” I added lamely. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Kenny let loose an almost muffled guffaw.

Sometimes I wondered if living in that care facility was such a good idea. At first it had been very liberating, not having to cook for myself, and getting help with the housework. And the other residents had been friendly, although they had since learned to leave me alone. But now I wondered if housework would have forced me to do something besides sit in my room and wonder why I had been so cursed to be born blind.

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