All I can notice are sounds, smells, tastes. I can feel a touch stronger than ordinary people. I can smell a baked turkey cooked for Christmas, I can feel taste of traditional food. Brandy is so bitter. I still hear my parents talking about my future. They won't find any girl for me, I won't let them enjoy having a grandchild. I'm so sorry, father that you can't be pride of me. Is it my fault? What can I do for you and for my aged, unhappy mother? You still have my siblings, you don't need to take care for my marriage. You don't have to save money for me. You're not going to, am I right? Focus on them. That day when God let me watch the light, the shadows, those funny outlines, was I the happiest of people? I didn't need the sight to live, the only problem was my uncertain future. Was I happy, then? If I was, that damned hapiness made me blinder I have ever been. I can hear those wheels, those luckless wheels of this luckless carriage coming my way. I can feel, I feel, it hurts so much. I can hear unfamiliar voices from everywhere. I am losing my sight forever. A doctor doesn't smell like safety but I don't care, it is not so important. The most important is that my pain is going to fade away. But it returns every day, every time the doctor is away. I can't move my legs. Every day makes me closer to death. Dear mother, dear father, you can breathe with a relief. It's time to bid farewell to you, to my eyes. I'm coming back after two hundred years to tell you the story about my past life. Why am I doing that? I don't know. I would like to remember more than my bad moments in that life. But this life, this suffering is a part of me, isn't it?