The Blind Man's Bus Craft.

Stenson, Matthew Scott

The Blind Man's Bus Craft I remember how he used his stick to sit, chin down and elbows in; how he looked up to heaven with a silver skin covering his open eyes; how he moved his red, shaky fingers over his discarded scarf and mittens until he could undo the buckle of his bag; how he took out a frozen scroll of yellowing, rag paper, turned it over, uncurled it, felt with his fingers its several flaring edges, before selecting a single sheet to run. With great skill he fed it flat through his plastic rule. Then taking a squat wood tool, the kind that demands the punching force of a shoulder, he planted the nose of his instrument, and began, I guess, a letter addressed in Braille to the sun.