In the dark night, a lonely man sat on a bench, in the shadows of his own thoughts. Between the cigarette smoke and the weight of resentment, his tears fell in the loneliness that enveloped him. Next to him, a father drowned his sorrows in alcohol, forming a sad symphony that only silence could understand.
With the ground as a witness, he took out a revolver loaded with bitterness, aiming at the knot that was suffocating his neck. In the abyss of his despair, a voice echoed through the night. A man, with dark glasses and a cane as a guide, approached asking for a light. However, his words carried with them more than a simple request.
The blind man shared stories of stars, nature and the moon, highlighting the beauties he appreciated without the sight that cancer took from him. Like a beacon of wisdom, he highlighted the naked skin in beloved arms, the first step of a child, the horizon of the sea and the parade of a sunset.
Although he lacked sight, he saw value in the simple things, a reminder to the lonely man that life had hidden treasures around every corner. As he put away his weapon, wiped his brow and followed the flow, the man felt a weight lift.
The blind man taught him to appreciate, to not lose hope, even when life seemed to ignore him. Each word resonated like an echo of strength and bravery. Although the lonely man had what the blind man did not possess, he learned that the true treasure lay in being grateful for every second of breath.
Thus, the night became a tale of transformation, where the coward found courage and the lonely man embraced the lesson of a wise blind man. When he felt that life ignored him, he would remember to cry, appreciate and smile, because someone said that it will not always rain, and always, tomorrow would be another day.