The storyteller

I have a mini voice recorder skulking in the bottom of a drawer full of whispered secrets; some murmured so quietly they are no more than a spirit’s breath. I still can’t quite fathom how such vast pain can fit into such a small space.

You don’t just tell your story; it tells you. I’ve come to realise this as I have listened back to my voice; sweat forming on my body as yet again I relive the terror of my sight loss.

I’m not quite sure what story I am telling; but I know it is an important one. It is a tale I knew I was going to tell, right from the very beginning.

I ruminate yet again on my situation, on this voyage I have unwittingly set sail upon. The very uniqueness of my experience, its exceptional rarity, is the story.

I ask myself: Why did this happen to me?

And I know the answer is simply; because I know how to tell the story…

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