Blinded

Blinded
Fran Sánchez

A great catastrophe desolates humanity. A strong blinding light flashes in the blue Mediterranean sky for an instant. Almost every inhabitant ends up blind, only a few manage to escape the event. The novel, divided into several stories, narrates how several characters live and react to this apocalyptic situation in different ways. Imagine yourself blind, everything in the most absolute darkness, lost in the middle of the city, or at home. Not a single public service working, no one there to help you…

Blinded

Part II

By Fran Sánchez

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Warning

Rated 18+

© 2018 Francisco José Sánchez Contreras

© Cover design 2016 Francisco José Sánchez Contreras

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Editorial TEKTIME

Any resemblance to reality is entirely coincidental.

Rated for ages: 18 and above

CONTENTS (#ulink_f841c364-c971-5220-b436-945e79ac6d48)

Chapter 1 (#ulink_75233c85-021e-57c2-97ca-4231aff34c73) Robert

Chapter 2 (#ulink_a9c6d929-7c51-53ec-9a2a-74972f4f8146) The Exam

Chapter 3 (#ulink_a5029a8d-af3e-512d-b7c8-888c55a28e04) Indaletius

Chapter 4 The Teacher

About The Author: Fran Sánchez

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Chapter 1

Robert

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Sandra’s thunderous voice echoed in his drowsy brain again.

“Rooobert! It’s getting late, get up, we won’t make it,” she said angrily. “It’s the second time I’ve called you.”

“Uahhh!” he stretched out at last.

“Come down, breakfast is ready, your toast is getting cold and, as always, we’re late.”

After his morning routine of satisfying his physiological needs, washing his face, brushing his teeth, and combing his hair, he began choosing his outfit for the day. Some simple blue denims and a comfortable red stamped T-shirt with the phrase “Not Today, Tomorrow…” in big yellow letters for the day. Since it was warm, even a bit hot, he left his jacket and hung it back in his wardrobe. He half-heartedly made his bed and went down the stairs to the dining room, fearing a tense breakfast.

Sandra had already finished and was picking her stuff off of the table as she reproached Robert for always having to be in a hurry. If he was sleepy in the morning it was because he did not have enough rest after going to bed very late at night. Robert glared at her in contempt as he swallowed his last piece of toast. He did not talk back; he wanted to avoid getting into a discussion. Besides, he thought Sandra was right, but he could not avoid getting distracted late at night. Something always came up: an entertaining TV show, something to read, or simply daydreaming of reconciliation.

After hurriedly finishing his drink, he left it on the dishwasher next to his plate, cleaned his side of the table, and quickly left through the door where Sandra kept urging him to hurry up.

“Gosh, I’m going!” Robert ended up answering back.

They walked quickly, trying to buy some time, but Robert kept falling behind. At that hour, there were always a large number of vehicles and pedestrians on the street, people that were going to their jobs, parents taking their children to school, delivery people carrying their goods already at work.

They had to cross the street through a pedestrian crossing that did not have traffic lights, which was always a very troublesome place. Drivers went by in a hurry and they rarely respected the zebra crossing, least of all in this particular spot, famous in the city since stopping there meant you would lose several precious minutes, indispensable for making it to your destination on time. The stream of passers-by was also numerous due to the proximity of many schools and, if you stopped your vehicle, the endless movement of pedestrians from both sides made it impossible to start moving again. This almost titanic struggle between vehicles and pedestrians had caused more than one controversy in the local news, forcing the city hall to establish an almost permanent arbitrator in the shape of a local police agent that regulated the chaos as best they could.

That morning, for unknown reasons, the absence of the agent caused the vehicles to gain the upper hand in the battle.

“They’re just not stopping,” said Sandra. “Now we’re really going to be late.”

The mandatory stop of a driving school vehicle at the zebra crossing felt like a lifesaver for the large amount of people that were waiting. The human flood began its quick march from both sides, meeting in the middle, where they had to dodge each other to make it past.

“Sandra,” called Robert at the worst moment.

She did not answer.

“I left my sandwich on the table in the hurry,” whispered Robert quite upset.

“Again? Robert!”

She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and stared at him incredulously. When she managed to move, she resumed the march.

“Come on, Robert, quickly! Let’s go now!”

That gave him a moment of respite before the monumental scolding Robert foresaw in the future. After crossing at the last moment, they stopped a few meters away.

“Firstly, I’ve told you a thousand times not to call me Sandra, that’s how any of the millions of people on the planet can call me, but you are the only one who has the privilege of calling me mom, so use that prerogative.”

“What’s a prerogative?”

“Don’t beat around the bushes, look it up in a dictionary for practice later.”

“What bushes?” he insisted.

“I can’t with you, I can’t,” grieved Sandra sorrowfully. “You don’t listen, you sleep late, you get up late. It’s because of you that we’re always late; you’re late for school, I’m late for work. It’s the second time this week you’ve forgotten your sandwich. We’re going to have to stop by the shop to get you something, even if I’m tempted to leave you without anything to eat; see if you learn from that.

Robert lowered his gaze, teary-eyed, and stayed silent.