At the kickoff dinner for a five-week retreat in the Catskills, I said to my fellow writers, “I suck at being blind.”
This is only partly true. I’m good with the technology that allows me to be a writer, but I’m not so good at the mobility thing, which is where my sighted partner, Alabaster, comes in. I had work to do and didn’t want to waste time getting lost on the way to the dining hall, so I asked if I could bring him. They said yes.