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One sudden horrific moment shifts the entire trajectory of Atlas and Errol's lives, handicapping both young men in ways they could never have expected. A sculptor without his sight, and a piani...
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The drive to Atlas's was about as quick as expected... not really quick at all. He lived further away from the city, but with a few good tunes, I barely noticed as I was pulling into his long ass driveway.
I hadn't really worked out the details of whether Atlas expected me to stay here, or if we were driving to my place. When I messaged him saying I was here, he just responded by telling me to ring the doorbell like a normal person.
Call me crazy but I was not a fan of ringing any doorbells. Like please explain to me why someone couldn't just open the door if they already knew I was out there. No, instead they had some weird facination with me waking up the whole damn household to announce my presence like a fucking pizza delivery man.
Clearly this particular topic got me heated.
Nevertheless I pulled myself out of my convertable and made my way towards the front of the home.
I was nervous, like more nervous than usual, but I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like Atlas was coming over to my place, I was actually checking his out for the first time. The ball was quite literally in my court in regards to judging, so I couldn't place why it felt like the other way around.
The door to Atlas's home was massive. You couldn't see it in all it's glory from the driveway, but as I walked up the well lit steps, I stared in awe. I hadn't really noticed when I picked Atlas up the first time, but now that I had a front row seat, Atlas's home was without a doubt architecturally sound. I was suprised by the attention to detail with the stained windows, and arched tops. Atlas must've had his eyes on this before he lost his sight, because I refused to believe this home wasn't specifically picked out by him, for him.
I hesitently placed my finger on the fancy looking door pad, waiting to hear the bell ring through the home like you could usually do with most homes, but this wasn't the case. I went to push it again, thinking I had missed it the first time, but before I could, the door opened up on its own. "Welcome." A monotoned voice said to me through speakers from somewhere at the entrance. I felt my body jump slightly from the unexpectedness of it all.
"Atlas?" I called out, walking slowly into the home as if there was the possibility I had entered someone elses place. That was a pretty stupid thought on my part considering I had literally been here before, and Atlas didn't have nearby neighbors.
"Hey! sorry, I'm in the kitchen." Atlas replied. I did my best to follow the sound of his voice, turning down the long corridor to a kitchan that was about the size of Texas.
"Listen... I'm not going to downplay the size of my penthouse... but this is kinda insane." I told Atlas, looking around at the state of the art kitchen that either had one meticulously clean owner, or it had never been used.
"The kitchen was one of the main reasons I bought the place." Atlas admitted. "Of course, now I don't use it nearly as much, having lost my sight, but Nyra likes to cook pretty elaborate dishes every once in a while to make the place feel more useful. Her words, not mine. I think pouring a bowl of cereal in here every morning is quite a bit of action."
