Just like any other day, the branch tickling against the window of his small apartment, the constant sound of cars driving past, the harmonic tune of birds humming welcoming in the new day, he awakes from his rest and stretches out his arms.

Turning on the radio hearing an abrupt message, "THIS IS KTNV 91.5 FM!"; The radio DJ begins speaking mindless jargon about celebrities having sex with other hot celebrities. Showing disinterest, he turns off the radio and decides to take a hot shower. He neatly folds his pajamas and lies them aside. Putting one hand in, waiting for the water to get warm, he steps into the shower and rinses his body. The warm water splashing against him massaging his body. He sings a tune; an old Irish folksong.
"To me Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay,
Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay."

He drys himself off then walks back to his wardrobe. Just by the simple feel of his shirts he can almost sense the colors with his fingers, the embroidered patterns all telling a different story of his past. After Finding an outfit, he ends up wearing a tan star-shaped sweater with black buttons, and an old timeworn pair of jeans. He treats himself to a quick breakfast just before he heads outside. Reaching into the fridge he grabs a few eggs before clumsily dropping a couple of them. He spreads some butter on his toast and pours a glass of fresh squeeze orange juice. After a hearty breakfast, he puts on his hat and grabs his walking stick. Walking downstairs, the loud footsteps of a couple kids running by surprises him and he hesitates for a second.

Upon leaving, a homeless man outside begs him for some change. Feeling generous he reaches into his pocket and drops a few cents into the dirty plastic cup; the beggar blessing him for his offering.

As he walks along the sidewalk, hearing each tap from his stick against concrete, he leans over and feels the side of a park bench and sits down. He takes in the sounds around him. The faint sound of dogs barking, an airplane passing overhead, the footsteps of pedestrians passing by, and children playing amongst themselves. He portrays each sound as a movie inside his head, unique in design and only subsisting to him.

He returns back to his apartment, shortly after returning he prepares himself a TV dinner consisting of pasta and meatballs then pours a glass of champagne. He walks over to his stereo and classical music plays out - something Beethoven. The reminiscent melody reminding him of the past times he had as a young boy; playing fetch with his dog, getting a bicycle for Christmas and learning how to ride it. Savoring that essence in time reliving each and every memory.

He cleans up and withdraws back to security of his bed. After taking a sip of water, he pulls the covers over him and closes his eyes. Nothing else but the monotone sound of the pendulum swinging back and forth. The sounds and images still vibrant in his dreams. The blind man sleeps.

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