Standard disclaimers apply. Blame it all on a weird dream that visited me during one cold December night and got stuck in my mind forever - and this is how this thing was born. Yep, and the prologue turned out to be too small... but there's definitely going to be more.
Hollow Gaze
Prologue
It's raining hard in the Tokyo city.
Rays of November sunlight are too weak to burst through the dirty cotton-like clouds. The streets are covered with puddles, small and large, and one can hardly find a dry spot on the ground. And whenever the citizens glance at the sky, they sigh deeply - will there ever be an end to this restless rain?
In Tokyo, nobody is fond of autumn days like this one. Gray shadows and icy raindrops bring back memories - it is a part of human nature to recall the sorrows of the past when the weather is gloomy. People shelter themselves from the rain in warm and safe houses or cozy restaurants, but where can one hide from the overflowing memories?
One chooses to cope with sadness by smoking one cigarette after another until the pack is empty. The other chats cheerfully with his pals, pretending to feel as calm and optimistic as ever. Someone is staring at the TV screen, someone is skimming mindlessly through a magazine... but one look at the steel-colored sky is enough for regretful remembrances to overpower you.
The dim city becomes a bit brighter when a raincoat-clad crowd starts to move along the streets. Pink, yellow, blue umbrellas are seen everywhere, and under each of them, a keeper of a private collection of thoughts and reminiscences is hiding. A middle-aged man in a brown suit who has just entered a cafe is probably thinking about her again - it has been twenty-six years since they parted at the entrance of this very cafe, but her brown locks are still reflecting in the wet shop window. A young woman with a fashionable checkered umbrella sighs as she recalls visiting the small toy store at the corner with her mother during the years of her childhood - she could never force herself to enter the tiny shop anymore after saying the final good-bye to her mother at the graveyard. A teenage girl is rubbing her already red face while gazing at the red telephone booth - just a week ago she was supposed to meet her irresponsible boyfriend here, but he never bothered to come...
Along with the multicolored, noisy, variegated crowd, a solitary fifteen year old passenger is walking slowly, covering himself with an old sea-green umbrella. Nothing is distracting him from the thoughts he's submerged into; no sight can draw his attention; nothing can be read on his thin-featured youthful face. The all-knowing autumn rain can't peek into his mind and read his secrets, and neither can it awake the recollections inside the quiet boy's heart. It seems that his emotions are safe from the importunate raindrops and heavy choking clouds that are troubling the souls of his neighbors - for the boy is blind.
His large amethyst eyes framed by long velvet lashes are staring into nowhere, never changing their lifeless, doll-like expression - or is there any expression at all? People raise their eyebrows and examine him curiously as he passes by them with his cane in his hand, but those looks are invisible to him, as is the entire world. He is not insulted, he doesn't mind being stared at - he can't tell if you're following him with intrigued eyes - he's shielded from the millions of condemning, appreciating, indifferent, flattering, mocking, praising looks - but is there a reflection of careless freedom on his pale face?
Out of all Tokyo inhabitants, he is the only one who cannot see the melancholic gray skies above his head - but can that make him smile?...
To be continued.