/ Black Cane Diary

stories of sight loss and experience

It’s the best thing about it, this ability we have to bring out the good in people, how we give them the opportunity to be kind.

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It was night. I think it was raining. Ahead I saw a long, low vehicle blocking my way.

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Near Waterloo, I stopped at a dark crossroads, unsure of the path ahead.

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The train waits, hissing. East Croydon. This is East Croydon.

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a fantasy

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We'll meet by the church on the corner of Goose Green, we said.

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People avoid me when they see the cane. They cross the road as I approach, flatten themselves against railings, hide behind trees.

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In the queue for a bar in a town I barely know, and this one looks like a mean bastard.

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On one hand, years ago, before I used a cane, I was walking down Kingsway towards the river.

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In this series, five friends imagine themselves in my shoes and write an entry for the diary.

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