The Chimera

The sunlight crept deeper into the room lighting up the ghastly sight that was his acid disfigured face, painting a vivid picture on the colorful tapestry that had been his life. The ray crept on, persistent in it's efforts to bring life and warmth into an otherwise moribund room, a tired window into the ruin that people thought had been his life. Born deaf and dumb, he lost his sight in the same accident that had disfigured his face, leaving him scarred, for life. He could not hear. He could not speak. He could not see. He could imagine.

And he'd had a lifetime to do just that, bereft of any contact with the outside world, thanks to his gifts. He was no Hellen Keller in that his imagination took no form recognizable by his fellow humans. Not that they would have or even could have understood if they had seen. Practice makes perfect they say and a lifetime of imagination had meant he had reached a stage where the sheer complexity and beauty of his dreams would overwhelm any that could understand.

He lived in a world of magic and impossibility, immense beauty and wonder. Impossible not because it wasn't possible but because it would never happen. He dreamt of the human race as it should be. Not as it is. A world without hate or prejudice. A world left unmarked by the vicious dreams of conquerors of death. A world without wars. A world without contempt. A world without form for he knew none. Yet, how is it that the dreams of one who didn't know about the sexes, one who didn't recognize god and hence didn't know religion, one who didn't know the difference between good and bad because no one had been able to teach him, and yet inherently knew what made him happy, human instinct, bare human instinct; be the perfect world?

The fantasy of someone with no knowledge, the wisdom of the combined sum of ten thousand years of human consciousness. A universe of colour, the passion of a dead man, yet a universe without form or language, technology or sophistication, death or life.

And just like that, the mirage shattered.The sun set. The ray crept away, futile in its attempts. His dream was lost. His world was dead, but even death couldn't wipe away the frown that he thought had been pleasant, his entire life.