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Show CHRYSALIS pAGE 2Q4 "0 dark, dark amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse without all hope of day!" The sad poet Homer, blinded, wailed to the horror of the perpetual darkness that engulfed him. The world has more than 14 million blind. Harry Lawrence is one. Harry has not seen the world for seven years. The cataracts that developed on both his eyes were followed by a total collapse of the arteries that fed the optic nerves. Casually now, Harry rocks, content at home and comfortable, knowing this darkness that engulfs him will never lift, not ever. The telephone rings, and casually and firmly, never groping, he excuses himself and goes into the next room to answer it. I have no idea how it is for him. I shut my eyes and touch the raised patterns on the chair, and I find familiar things are strange in the dark. I know a sudden isolation from everything that moves. There is darkness within darkness within darkness, like Chinese riddle-boxes. When I open my eyes light floods again into my brain, and I am glad. My friend returns to his chair, and rocks. He smiles. His face shows none of the suffering and bitterness that must |