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“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.” - Helen Keller Mature Content: Highly unlikely! With: Speed Guyer Location: Rented apartment above the Hardware Store. When: July 1876 Time of Day: Afternoon. Had she sight and the wherewithal to do so, Frances would have provided a hot cooked feast for her brother to come home to. Not because he deserved it (many would say) or because it was her sisterly duty (she had only known him, what? three years this Fall, he was not a person she had grown up with, he hardly felt like a brother to the blind girl, although people told her that there was a strong family resemblance). She would have done it because she would have been able to. This new place took some getting used to: there was a stove, but she did not yet trust her way around enough not to set the place on fire, or herself on fire for that matter! like this poor Mr. Orr she had heard about. So Frank would have to make do with a cold collation. Probably just as well, he was never back when he said he would be: and then he was usually drunk, often to the point of insensibility. But lo! A creak at the bottom of the outside stair that ran up the side of the hardware store and terminated at the top to the door of the pokey little apartment the two of them rented. Not Frank, though. A heavier step. She stood, a vague feeling of apprehension kneading at the pit of her stomach. A man. A man with a purpose. She walked the route to the door. Funny, Frank was always tripping over the foot stool, kicking the small table with the aspidistra on it, knocking the antimacassar off of the back of the armchair. He seemed less able to see the furnishings of the place than she. She knew where everything was; she learned it first with her hands and her mind, but now, after a couple of weeks, her whole body knew it. She stood by the inside of the door, the man was at the top now. He was fit, it seemed, she could not hear him breathing heavily through the crack in the door, but somehow she did not expect him to be a young man, not Hector, for instance. @Flip