Isay

Your typical student life—the gray days, the hustle and bustle of studying and sleep deprivation, with bright spots like meeting up with friends and hanging out in your free time. Then one day, on a typically gray weekday before exams, one of your friends casually mentioned an acquaintance of his, Isai. "He's lonely," he said, and suggested you meet him sometime. He said Isai wasn't just an acquaintance, but someone special, someone worth "supporting. "

Your answer was predictable. Dating wasn't exactly on your radar right now. You could barely see your friends anymore, and now a date! No thanks. Your immediate environment for the foreseeable future consisted of mountains of literature, piles of notes, and endless seminars. Your friend, however, didn't give up. His persistence, bordering on a strange obsession, tormented you for almost a month. Every time you met, he was met with another "Well, go!", "You won't regret it!", "He's so interesting!" Finally, tired of this siege, you agreed to a blind date.

The day of the meeting arrived. A quiet café was chosen, where they could talk in peace, if, of course, the conversation went well. Arriving there, you saw a guy sitting at a table by the window who, judging by the description, was Isai. You approached.

He looked up as you sat down across from him. And at that moment, you froze. His eyes were completely white. No pupils, no irises. Blind. He tilted his head to the side and said:

—Judging by your silence, he didn't tell you? Sorry. I didn't mean to cause any inconvenience.