The Conscious and the Kid

 The Conscious and the Kid

Paul Peng with Abrarov

Peter was stuck in the crevice of the mountain. Cold stone blocked the grasp of the outside world; trapped in the heart of the mountain. There lay a painting; what looked to be a pictograph made by cavemen. Under the picture was a text, seemingly matching with the painting. The quotes; surprisingly neat, written in English, it looked like they were written with a keyboard.

Only Peter’s eyes twirled around the room, with his head laying still. Peter coughed as the dust from him stepping into the cave floated up to his face, then he noticed the finer details of the area. The roof was high enough that a giant could fit in, however the horizontal space in the cave was cramped and allowed for little movement. Water was dripping from somewhere near the roof, although when it got high enough it was dark near the top and Peter couldn’t see where it was coming from. Dust speckled the floor to the point where it looked like you were standing on a mist of reddish clouds. The walls were beige but dotted with what looked like dried red in some areas. The text and painting was red too, but it looked like it had just been painted.

Peter’s neck twisted to look behind himself at the entrance and wondered how in the world life had brought him here. After a moment, he snapped his head back, still intrigued at learning more about the cave. He used his foot to sweep off some dust ahead of him, observing as it floated up. After a pause Peter started on his feet. He turned left slowly and walked toward the wall on that side. He put his hand on the wall, no secret entrance here, he quipped to himself, although he had the slightest hope there actually was one. 

It suddenly occurred to Peter why he was being so diligent. When no answer came to mind, he resumed moving like normal from the slow motion he had been in before. He spun around the circumference of the room with his hand trailing on the walls, all the way around to the right side where the scripture was. Arriving closer Peter dropped his hand and looked at the now clear painting and text beneath.

It was a painting of a plant that looked as if extremely detailed but had no particular features that made it such. Peter couldn’t make out what was drawn on the painting because of the absence of colour. Peter lifted his hand up in slow motion again, and touched the painting, after not noticing anything, hovering his finger to the text. 

The text read “The circles fade out, and the clarity comes on”

Peter initiated in trying to figure out what this meant but his determination withered away fast. What could some dashes have to connect to this? Peter read the text aloud trying to comprehend it.

“The circles fade out, and the clarity comes on”

Suddenly, Peter found his eyes to be closed. He tried opening them, no feeling whatsoever, it was like he didn’t have eyes in the first place. Alarmed, Peter staggered his hands up reaching for his face. He felt his eye sockets, his eyes were still there, and there was nothing blocking them. He reached his hands forward for the cave wall, attempting some stability, but fell forward. Had he turned around unintentionally? Did the walls move? Why couldn’t he see? Peter lay on the ground still only looking at a scurrage of black, and flipped over belly up, not noticing his bruised knees.

He could feel his abdomen tighten and his mouth waver. 

He let out a high pitched groan that sounded like a baby crying, embarrassed, Peter paused but realised he was too in dismay to be caring about his image, and let out a loud desperate howl. Incomprehension turned to anger, and Peter snapped his hands up and forcefully pulled on his eyelids and pushed his eyes deeper into their sockets in rage, part instinct and perhaps part thinking they would turn on again like pushing a button.

Immense sharp pain enabled in his eyes, Peter felt like a flame was burning them from inside out. From this pain Peter calmed a little and lay there, his mind finally coming to him. Peter lay there for several minutes, his brain and body in a frenzy trying to compute what had just happened. Then, Peter rolled on his side then propelled himself up, feeling weird because he had never done so with his eyes closed. He held his arms up in a T and spun around, making sure nothing was near him. After so, Peter tried to open his eyes again to no success. He came to the realisation that he didn’t know what to do, was he just blind now? Where was he? What should he do?

“Is anyone there?” Peter said, his voice shaking

“IS ANYONE THERE! HELP! PLEASE!” Peter tried again at the top of his lungs. No response, not even birds fleeing or squirrels running.

Peter thought about the possibilities of what was around him, it could be anything. He stood there hesitant to move, afraid of what he might encounter. He had never felt this sensation before, moving, without knowing where you are moving or what's ahead of you. With the thought that he inevitably had to proceed eventually, he slowly took a step forward, noticing the odd feeling. Peter tried to feel the ground intensely with his feet, trying to make out what he was standing on, as well as making sure to preserve his balance. Although he was wearing thick mountain climbing boots, he could feel the ground was not hard, it wasn’t wood or concrete or something, it felt like gravel or dirt. Peter bent down to feel the earth with his hands, and sensed thin, light, non sharp blades stacked on a dirty soft foundation, which he knew to be grass on soil. This made him unsteady and filled him with disbelief, as near the cave, the closest grass would probably be more than 100km away. After coming to the realisation that he was outside, Peter took off his face mask, and accessories and now felt that there was sunlight. Peter also realised just now that it was very warm and took off his jacket, snow pants, and accessories.

He tried imagining what the terrain around him would look like. Was it a place with beautiful grassy hills with the sun pouring down? Was it a savanna? Was it someone's backyard? Peter tried a cautious small step forward, and followed it with another, getting more comfortable without the sense of sight, but still trying to detect danger with his hands in the air, looking idiotic. After a few seconds, Peter walked a little faster, although still imagining that he might fall off something or run into something. His eyes twitched again trying to open off of instinct. The ground wasn’t perfectly even and had small bumps, but none big. Peter traversed through this mysterious landscape, attempting to let curiosity take over the fact that he was blind and didn’t know even a speck about where he was and how he got there. To gather more information he tried remembering the moment he spoke those words and his vision went dark, but nothing of use came up. The change was very smooth like an edited transition in a video, right after he finished the sentence he couldn’t see anything anymore and probably then he got teleported, who knows how, to this place. Peter considered taking off his shoes to better feel the ground beneath him but decided that he could tell if the path changed with his boots on, after all he could just reach down anytime. Peter was right that he could feel the change in the floor because right then he noticed that he felt something harder than before. Not hesitating, he reached down and felt that the ground was a smooth concrete, not unlike the roads that cars drive on. Peter moved one of his hands behind him and felt where the grass transitioned to concrete, then he took 2 steps forward with his hands on the ground and felt the other side of where the road ended. It felt to be around 2 metres in width. Peter thought about this for a moment, and recognized that if there's a road, it probably leads somewhere, somewhere that might have people, which gave Peter a sharp flash of hope.

“HEY! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?” No response. The hope quickly turned into disappointment.

With that, Peter slightly shook his head and started on his feet. At first, he walked with his hands out like metal detectors still being careful, but then rested them down. Peter had nothing to lose now and he was loosening his guard. He walked and walked, the fear of running into something dissipating. What felt like a half hour passed, and Peter was still continuing on the road. Peter started getting impatient and wondered if the road was a dead end and he was wasting his time and energy. He checked the sides of the road, which was still grass, then, he carried on. After a few thousand more steps, Peter felt like a whole day had passed, but he still felt the sunlight and acknowledged that he was probably overestimating. Peter had shouted a cry more times than an army general, but no reply came back. Eventually, even for a very fit man, Peter started tiring and sweating, and got off his shirt and tucked it in his pants. Peter told himself that he had no other choice but to keep walking, so he did. 

2

Suddenly Peter felt a sharp increase in the steepness of the road. He stopped sensing that his balance was getting fluctuant. Slowly Peter bent down and reached his hands to the ground now on all fours. He could now feel the extreme steepness of this ascent, it felt like he was on the mountain just like he was a few hours ago. Peter didn’t know what to do, he tried imagining a very long road that started going up like a roller coaster and what that could mean and where it would lead. Peter thought it could just be a really steep hill that leads down eventually, or it could be a plateau with a high fall at the end, which made him terrified. Peter thought about whether he should go back, continue, or go off the road and try to find something else of any use. Peter decided he should try screaming one more time just in case someone was near, although it wasn’t easy now that he was so out of it.

“Hey, respond…” This time Peter sounded like he was sleep talking

“Who is it!”

Peter was so invigorated by the answer that his energy gushed back to him like a tsunami.

“ME! PLEASE HELP! I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING! I’VE BEEN WALKING FOR SO LONG! THANK YOU!”

“Oh calm down please young man, can’t you hear, I'm trying to have my tea here?”

“PLEASE JUST LEAD ME TO YOU, I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING”

“Alright alright!”

Peter heard some futuristic digital tech sounds strangely, then the footsteps of the person toward him. The person sounded like a man although he couldn’t know for sure. His voice was quite high and croaked at every syllable and Peter assumed he must be over the age of 65 at the very least. He could hear the footsteps being steadfast ungraceful thuds, more signs of an old man.

“It's rude not to indicate, young man!”

“Get me some water please, I can’t think straight right now”

The old man appeared to pause, Peter didn’t hear anything. The moment of terror was subsided by the man's footsteps going away from him.

“Thank you” Peter grumbled

Peter waited, the footsteps getting quieter and quieter, then heard the sound of a door open and shut. Peter realised that meant there was a door, and probably the old man's house was right there a couple metres in front of him and he was drinking tea on his front lawn. Peter allowed to let go of some worry, although this situation didn’t guarantee anything yet. 

Peter waited and waited for the old man to come back with a precious bottle of water, but nothing happened. Peter felt like 20 minutes had passed and he was on his knees and hands but still no old man here. A hint of anger procreated inside Peter’s gut as some resentment was stored for the man. Although the old man had said nothing about bringing him water, Peter couldn’t reason why he wouldn’t give water to a blind young man who was obviously devastated.  Peter started feeling nauseous and dizzy, only sustaining his balance by being on fours. He felt the sensation of falling and his body getting smaller and being sucked into a black hole. Peter unintentionally fell asleep. 

It took close to a minute after Peter woke up to remember what he was doing and what had happened. After he did, he was surprisingly calm and peaceful, not feeling the toilet of emotions that he remembered he was feeling before, although all Peter could recall was a memory that amounted to what a man saw when he was on LSD. Peter strangely felt that joy was encapsulating him in a warm blanket, and felt distanced from all these problems, like his position moved from in his body to outside his body. After thinking about the past for a moment, Peter suddenly realised that in front of him he could perceive light and a colour. It was so unexpected but Peter didn’t seem excited or shook, still being covered in what seemed like an unwavering, unbreakable peace. Although the vision was far from normal and he would probably be still considered blind, Peter looked at the foggy colours intensely and noticed every pixel. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he noticed how beautiful they were. He couldn’t make out anything in front of him, all he saw was a field of grey with a few light discrepancies here and there instead of a plain field of pitch black, but this grey was different somehow than the grey Peter remembered when he had his normal sight. Peter didn’t understand what was happening to him and he didn’t think of it so much as indulge in it. He just kept drowning in delight and looking with 100% of his energy to the grey, like it was something of extreme interest. It was so different from what he saw when he had his vision. Although he had seen his fair share of spectacular sights in his life, this blurry cloud of grey confusingly topped them all. 

About 2 hours passed of Peter laying on the ground where he woke up before the feeling subsided. When it did, Peter started feeling like before again, he started worrying about his situation, and started feeling very thirsty and hungry again, although the nausea and fatigue seemed to fade. When Peter looked around, he realised that his vision wasn’t defaulted to grey, he just saw whatever colours were in front of him but didn’t see any details. It was like a man with 1000 degrees of myopia looking at something far away. Peter also discerned that he could perceive some light, when he looked up, he observed that the luminosity of his field of view increased slightly. Peter felt a little dumb when he thought about what the grey was that he had been seeing before, and grasped that he was just looking down at the pavement beneath him. 

Peter noticed that something else in his view had changed dramatically, the hues that could make it to his vision didn’t look beautiful anymore. They just looked like everyday colours, like normal. Peter wondered why what he was seeing right now brought him to ecstasy not long ago. Was it because he didn’t see for something like around a day and was astounded by sight again? That couldn’t be true, Peter felt what he felt before he even noticed a glimmer of vision returned, also, Peter admitted that he wasn’t so grateful that that could happen. Peter was stumped, and these thoughts quickly were overtaken by thinking what he would do next.

He quickly stood up on all fours, surprised at how much energy he had, and this time looked down and to the left then to the right, seeing bleared dots of green appear on both sides, but not noticing his arms because his blind vision didn’t allow them into view. The vision was still so bad that his brain couldn’t process where he was, and Peter had to logically make out that it was a road that he was standing on and grass was probably the big dots of green he was seeing. Peter tilted his head up and looked forward, seeing a big dark brown dot with a sesame of colours surrounding it. 

Peter’s mouth gaped open and his eyes glimmered, the old man's house was his interpretation of the brown dot. Peter almost laughed out loud when he came to this conclusion, the old man was still being hunted by him. He crawled a few metres forward to where the ground levelled, and stood up, again surprised at how a few hours of sleep could make his vigour appear out of nowhere. He slowly gaited forward, still disturbed by his lack of vision. He could see the brown dot getting bigger and bigger, and when it clouded more than 80% of his line of sight Peter threw his hands up, expecting the house. A few steps later his hand collided with a hard material, Peter felt it too try and make out what it was. Peter glided his hand down, noticing that it was a pole of wood that he was touching, although it didn’t feel man made, it was more similar to a thin tree trunk. This stirred up some fret in Peter, thinking it was just a forest. Peter traced the trunk down to his shins, where he was relieved to feel a slab of the same material, this time in a rectangular man made shape, although it was still very rough. 

Peter moved along, his hands still tracking down the outline of the probable house. First he tried moving right of the pole on the rectangle but found nothing, then he noticed it was an edge, that it was the corner of the house. He moved left to the other side of the same edge and noticed that the other side was symmetrical to the right, having the same pole on rectangle. Peter thought that this was the front of the house and it was built like the whitehouse with pillars in the front, although he didn’t know if this edge was the front, right, left, or back, or if it was even a quadrilateral like he assumed. 

Peter trailed back to the right side and counted his steps, trying his hardest to step exactly the same each time. He counted 42 steps. Then he wrapped around again, this time taking 21 steps approximating the middle of the house. He angled right to face the house, and leathered forward with his left leg while sweeping the ground ahead with the other, trying to detect roadblock. After a few short hops Peter felt hard material with his foot and stepped on it, then he hopped forward slightly with his leg on the ground and extended his leg that felt the material forward to another higher material. There were stairs. Peter was energised after noticing that his prediction was right, this was the old mans house. He slowly stepped up the stars, which were very long, Peter felt like he was a few metres above ground after the stairs levelled onto the porch. He reached his hands in front of him and walked forward, bumping into a material which he scanned using his hands. After noticing a familiar touch of a doorknob, Peter twisted and surprisingly found that the door wasn’t locked. He pushed open the door, not knowing if the old man was watching him. He took a step forward and by his blurred vision he could make out that the inside of the house was the same as the outside, an average brown colour. When he took another step forward something strange happened. Peter heard consecutive sounds, each seeming to be coming from a different place in the house, some to the left or right, some far, some close. There was a beep, then a higher pitch beep, then a bop, followed by a variety of monotone sounds that didn’t indicate anything. Peter stood there and listened intently, curious, then, he heard footsteps. 

A tinge of fear told Peter to go out of this stranger's house but it didn’t succeed in even moving a muscle of his, he was way too ingrained in the weird story that he was experiencing. 

“Indicate please!” came the same creaky voice that was the old man’s

“What?” responded Peter

“Oh it's you again kid! what do you want?”

“Old man did I not tell you to bring me some water?”

The old man laughed, at least that's what Peter guessed the sound was. His laugh sounded “Heeee, heh!”. A high pitched extended e heeee with an awkward instant heh at the end. 

“Why are you so goddam rude? Can’t you see the state that i'm in?” Peter said, assuming he was visibly disordered

“Heeee, heh!”

Peter heard the footsteps of the old man walking down a staircase and coming toward him. Then, Peter heard a ding in arms length distance from him, wondering why random sounds were coming out of nowhere. 

“Well, aren’t you thirsty? Take the water!”

“I'm very sorry old man, you might not believe this but I am blind, could you lend the water in my hand?” Peter realised that he didn’t even tell the guy he couldn’t see, the man probably thought he was crazy.

“Lord's name, what are you saying?”

Peter felt anger ignite in him as the old man didn't believe the fact that he really couldn’t see.

“Please, believe me, I wish I could see but I can’t. I know my eyes are open and I'm not riddled with sunglasses, but that's just because I'm not used to this yet. Can you just please hand me the water and we can talk about this later.”

“I’ll ignore your strangeness for now, indicate your hand!”

Peter held out his hand in an open palm.

“Young lass you keep saying you're thirsty but you're not taking this water or indicating? Are you trying to pull some ploy here?”

“I did indicate my hand.” Peter emphasised the indicate, part mocking the old man's overuse and misuse of the word. 

“Well, if you're telling the truth I must not have heard it then, indicate it again please young man, my hearing is deteriorating, although i'm still sharp as a stick, not to worry!”

“What do you mean you didn’t hear? I didn’t make a sound, what do you mean by indicate?”

“Heeee, heh. Kid did you just spawn into this world or something? Now indicate and let me give you the water, or shoo away and let me finish what I was doing!”

Peter thought for a moment on what the old guy meant by indicate. It was pretty clear that it had some twist to it, that it didn’t mean indicate. Peter thought about how the old man said that he didn’t hear him indicate, meaning that indicating had something to do with sound. He also remembered that when he came into the house the old man instantly said to indicate and when Peter responded with “What?” which was a sound, the old man discontinued telling him to indicate. Did indicating mean to make a sound? Peter thought about this and concluded suspiciously that it was the best answer he could get to right now. Well the old man was telling him to indicate his hand so he was supposed to make a sound with his hand? Peter tested it out, praying with all his might that the old man would deed him the water. Peter snapped with his open hand, although barely making a noise (he couldn’t snap well) and a boulder of weight lifted from him as he felt the cup rift into his hand. 

“There we go! Ain’t that hard was it now?”

Peter chugged the cold water, not noticing it spilling on his shirt. Peter suspected it would be the best water he had ever tasted but disappointingly it only tasted a little above normal. Despite this Peter felt amazing after the glass, finally rejuvenated. Peter was panting with his hold body waving up and down. After the quick wave of delight his mind returned and Peter rushed to think about the old man's answer he just heard. “There we go! Ain’t that hard was it now?” repeated in his head. So did it mean his hypothesis was correct? Peter thought about a way to ask about indicating without making it sound direct, or the old man wouldn’t answer him righteously and say an unclear sarcastic answer, assuming the answer was obvious.

“Was that a good indication?” Came out. It wasn’t perfectly satisfactory, but Peter hoped it would do

“Well… the volume was a little on the quiet side, but I could hear it fine, guess my ears came to the rescue on that one! Heeee, heh!”

So indicating did mean making a sound that “indicated” the object. Peter thought about how dumb it was, why did you need to hear where something was? In the middle of the train of thought a daunting idea came to mind, Peter almost instinctively shoved it aside on how ignorant it was but pulled it back at the last second. In this world, this place, or whatever it was, was everyone blind? Peter muzzled at the thought, wishing it was and wasn’t true at the same time. Peter really wanted to confirm the bigger chance that it wasn’t and instantly shouted out.

“Hey old man, what do you see?” Peter realised halfway through that if he was blind he wouldn’t know what seeing is, although it would still give him a clue.

“What do you mean kid?”

“I mean… how many fingers am I holding up right now?” Peter held up his ring, middle, and index finger

“Well, indicate and I'll know!”

“So you can’t perceive it another way, like without sound?”

“What the yank are you asking me kid? I could touch it I guess but just indicate, it ain’t hard!”

“Feel above your nose, and like… below  your forehead, feel anything there?”

“... Yes, I have eyes kid.” The old man sarcastically said

 There was a pause of thinking, then Peter said 

“What are they for? What’s their use?”

“Well you curious one, that's one of the great mysteries of the world! No one’s ever found that out!”

Peter felt something in his gut move, he still didn’t fully buy that he had been transported to a world where everyone is blind. The old man did sound very sincere though. 

“Got anything else to tell me dinger? I'm going to go up again to have my tea! And, while you’re at it, get out of my house!”

“I don’t have anywhere to go”

“Well, where did ya come from?”

“It’s a long story”

“Oh don’t give me this long story gooza, go back to where you came from and I'll go back to where I came from!”

Peter thought about whether he should tell the old man and decided out of spite and also out of the fact that if he couldn’t win over the old man’s house to stay in for a while he might die, that he should tell him. Alarmed by the sound of footsteps, Peter quickly opened his mouth.

“Wait!”

Peter heard the footsteps stop and a grunt.

“I’ll listen to you one more time, after your next sentence I am going, and if you don’t go, i'll make you go!”

Peter spurted out as fast as he can in a way that almost sounded as if he were rapping “I was on a tour of the Himalaya’s then I got lost then I found a cave then I found paintings in the cave with text beneath them then when I read the text I somehow transported here, not here but far from here. I lost… a key sense that I had but you apparently don’t have. Then I walked and walked and heard you and begged and walked and walked and found your house and now I am here”

The air seemed to stop in the room, Peter awaited a response that may or may not shape his life, at least here. After a few seconds there was still no sound to be heard from the old man, Peter wondered if he was even listening or why he was thinking for so long.

“Okay son, I believe you.”

“Uhm, … really?”

“Well, you didn’t lie did you?”

“No. I didn’t, but I didn’t expect you to believe it like that.”

“Eh, I am a crazy old man.”

“Why? Why do you  believe me?”

“Son I can tell you may be a little clogged up there, but you are a good kid.”

Peter was touched and actually very warmed at the sudden compliment by the old man that seemed like he didn’t like him, but also a bit duffed by the clogged up comment. Peter wondered what he had done to make the old man think he was a good person, nothing special appeared to him. It also occurred to Peter that he was still in mountain climber gear, so his story was more believable but remembered that the old man couldn’t see him anyway. The speculation of the old man’s blindness faded with his trust in him.

“Bud boy you don’t have any belongings with you do ya?”

“No sir I don’t” Peter suddenly found himself respecting the old man and calling him sir

“Don’t you dare call me sir youngen!” 

“Ok… what's your name?” Peter blurted

“Dave! your’s sully?” 

“Peter. You can call me that instead of the weird names you collected for kids now, besides, i'm not a kid anymore either.”

Peter let out a deep breath, his energy was almost emptied.

“I'm sorry for asking so much Dave, but I have so many questions but I really need a bit of food and water first, do you have any?” Peter smiled trying to seem like a cute innocent kid

Peter heard footsteps away, and was glad that the old man was glistening up and being kind to him. Then, he remembered that last time when he asked for water, the old man went away and didn’t get it instead deserting him, and Peter worried. Peter needed to save energy though, so this time he just stood still and trusted with all his might this random Dave. Peter waited and after a surprisingly short amount of time he felt Dave’s old frail hand loft on his. It was hard and boney, and dry and wrinkled like a raisin. Peter thought about how old the man might be, maybe he was over 90. 

“Here, just follow me, I know you aren’t used to indicating son, so I’ll lead you there.”

After, Peter heard a ding in the direction in front of him and the old man started. He walked very slowly and with a limp and a tremble, clearly asymmetrical. They took a couple steps forward with Peter’s hand still on the old man’s, who was in front of him leading. After moving forward they turned left and took around 3 steps and Dave led him into a seat. Peter stuck his hands out and felt a table in front of him, this must be the kitchen. 

“Well, I’ll guess I’ll have to hand hold you through this ain’t I? Heeee heh!”

Peter skrimmed at the thought of that close of contact with this old man who he couldn’t see and may have all sorts of who knows what on his body, but he also felt glizzy with the kindness he was receiving, Peter was starting to like this goofhead. 

“Get ready buster, im coming in!”

Peter felt the old mans right shoulder on his right shoulder and left on his, controlling his arms and hands from behind like a puppetmaster. The old mans skin was dry, slippery, and cold and the only thing stopping it from feeling completely like ice was its wrinkles. Peter tried to relax fully to not interfere with the old mans control. After a slow lead forward, Peter felt his left hand touch a cup and his right hand touch a spoon and a bowl. He grabbed the cup fast, shaking off the old mans hand, and chugged it. Then he grabbed the spoon and without hesitating went in for the bowl not knowing what was in it. It was surprisingly good tasting, warm, sloppy, sweet, oatmeal. It tasted like oatmeal with maple syrup in it, a weird mix, but not at all bad.

Peter finished the bowl in less than a minute, feeling filled with extreme satisfaction and fuzziness. 

“Thank you so much old man, you saved my life.”

Peter felt the need to give something back to the man, to thank him in a real way, but he didn’t know how. Also, he didn’t yet know what his relation was to this man and his house, or to this world. At this kind moment he didn’t worry about this, but he knew at the back of his mind that he was in a pretty deep problem here. 

“Eh so kid… what is this type of world you come from?”

“I think everything else is the same… at least for now I haven’t seen anything other than blindness. In my world people have a sense that allows them to perceive objects…”

Peter paused to think about how to describe vision to a man that was blind; a world that was blind.

“We have a sense that allows us to perceive objects, or anything, that is in the front 180 degrees of us, the side we are facing, but we can only direct this perception to a certain small area in this field, while the other 80% is registered more subconsciously, although we are still very aware of its presence. We also learn through experience to imply things about the things we perceive using this sense, like if there were 2 materials in front of me I could tell which one is harder, more malleable, safe to touch, and what its general properties are… I hope that wasn’t too long.”

“Holy moly son, why don’t we have this sense of yours! Heeee heh! This is magic!”

“I guess it seems like that to you, but it's as normal as any other sense for us.”

“Ay I get it now kid, you didn’t know what indicating is, because this sense could tell you where everything is instantly?”

“Yes.. exactly..”

“What do you plan on doing? You don’t have a house or a family or anything.”

“Um I really don’t know, I'm just trying to push away the worry for now. Excuse me but I need some rest. Do you have a place where I can lie down?”

“Jeez you little snigger! Is this a robbery? I will give you a bed though but after this night you are out and never coming back!”

Peter had been secretly hoping he could live with this man for a while at least until he had some establishment, but that thought disappeared disappointingly. 

“Thank you old man”

“Alright now, give me your hand.”

Peter still had the instinct to protect his ego and refuse but it was an obvious decision that he had to. Peter lent out his hand and snapped, remembering instantly this time. He felt the old man's hand on his, felt a tug, and stood up.