Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for her iPhone which she had placed on her night table as always. Many blind and sight limited people used the iPhone because of its many accessibility apps. Abbey flipped hers on now and listened as her phone read her some of the day’s headlines in its stilted, mechanical voice.
But she flipped it off just as quickly, making a face.
“Ugh—political news!”
There was nothing she wanted to hear less. She walked from her bedroom to the bathroom easily—everything in her environment was familiar. Placing the iPhone on her bathroom counter in the special holder she had there just for that purpose, she walked exactly three steps forward, turned to her left and pushed open the door of her shower stall.
Everything in Abbey’s world was ordered and precise. She didn’t ever have to worry about tripping because there was never anything on the floor that shouldn’t be there. Also, all the throw rugs had been taped down with special double-sided tape to keep them from becoming tripping hazards.
As she reached in to turn on the water, feeling with long practice for the knob, Abbey thought to herself that this was another reason she hesitated to move out on her own. Everything in Aunt Rose’s house was already set up for a blind person.
There were no obstacles on the floors, there were accessibility buttons on all the appliances, and everyday objects were labeled in Braille. Abbey could function in this house almost as easily as a sighted person—simply because there was a place for everything and everything was always in its place. It was hard to leave that kind of security and safety—even if it came at the cost of privacy.
“Hey, Abbs, you up and at ‘em?” Aunt Rose’s voice floated through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
“Yes, Aunt Rose—just getting in the shower,” Abbey called back.
She sighed as she stepped under the warm spray of water. She loved her aunt more than she could say, even if she did wish for some privacy sometimes.
After her mom had passed, Aunt Rose had stepped up and taken her in. And when Abby had started losing her vision at the age of sixteen, the loyal old lady had taken her to every specialist she could find—even though she could barely afford it.
But all the specialists had said the same thing—that Abbey’s blindness was incurable and there was nothing to do but teach her Braille and get her a guide dog and a cane. Once again, Aunt Rose had stepped up, transforming their shared house into a place where Abbey never had to be afraid she was going to trip and fall—a place where she knew where everything was at all times.
Of course, there were mishaps. Like the time Abbey had unpacked the groceries and mistaken the tube of toothpaste for the tube of tomato paste. She and Aunt Rose had laughed and laughed at that one when Abbey had complained how strange the new brand of toothpaste tasted and Aunt Rose had discovered the mistake.
Abbey had to have a sense of humor about her situation or she wouldn’t have survived and to Aunt Rose’s credit, she didn’t coddle her niece. She set up the house to accommodate Abbey’s disability, but she didn’t try to do everything for her.
That was good—Abbey liked feeling self-sufficient. Well, as much as possible. She had plenty of aides and apps which helped her through the day, but as much as she could, she tried to do everything for herself.
She found the shampoo bottle, reading the Braille label she had placed there with her sensitive fingertips, and lathered her long, dark brown hair. She was grateful that it was easy to take care of—if she’d had a mass of curls, her hair routine would have been much more complicated. As it was, she was able to rinse and condition and then wrap her hair in a towel—easy peasy, lemon- squeezy as Aunt Rose would say.
Getting dressed and doing her makeup took a little longer. Abbey had all her clothing arranged in her closet with Braille labels on the hangers which told what blouse and what skirt or pair of jeans or trousers were hanging on them.
The system was a hold-over from when she had first started losing her vision. In her zeal to get everything ready for the dreaded day when not even the thickest glasses would enable Abbey to see fine details, Aunt Rose had gotten a Braille labeler and put labels on literally everything. But now, after over a decade of being legally blind, Abbey could tell what was what just from the color and feel of the fabric.
She pulled on a nice pair of jeans and a long-sleeved maroon top with a deep V-neck. She was working with Aunt Rose in the front of the shop today rather than doing any administrative duties in the back, so she needed to look nice in case she had to interact with any of their customers.