As I sat at my table, I listened to the music and the people chit-chatting and laughing around me. Centuries ago, when I still had my sight, I would've people-watched and made silent guesses about their lives. A man in a business suit would become a secret agent and assassin. The woman in the cocktail dress and gold hoop earrings would be his target. This was one of the many stories I had made up inside my head.
Now I simply must tune in with my ears to the socialization around me. I had exchanged my sight in order to gain immortality, foolishly ignoring the gut feeling that I was making a horrid mistake. How naive I had been. In my own defense, the woman who had come to me was mysterious, enchanting in her own frightening way. She came to me one dreary night in the form of a dream. Dark hair covered her face, only showing her mouth. I remember that she had skin the color of mocha, and her dress flowed around her, caught in a whirlwind I could not see nor feel. She beckoned me close wi