Here's a short story I wrote, hope you enjoy it.

The Blind Man's Muse

A blind man is led into a room by a nurse, who helps him slowly pass the chairs and tables, into his bed by the window. She tucked him comfortably in bed and left. The man can't see out the window, he can only feel its cold and touch its borders, tasting its irony. He sighed.
Sitting in the darkness of his own world, the blind man waits. The darkness surrounding him is bleak, and dull. He's waiting for someone, but he doesn't know who. Some spirit to take him by the hands and grasp him into life, just one last time. He doesn't know what; he's just sitting there in his corner, suffering in his own private hell. Suddenly, he looks around; he hears something, close to him, calling his name. He looked around, but his eyes, blind as a bat, could pick up no one.
But then there she was. She was beautiful woman, in her twenties, with blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. She wore a flowing gown of white and golden silk, and she beckoned to him. He followed, timid at first, but when she smiled, showing off her shining teeth, he followed obediently. She took him by the hand, and snapped her fingers.
Suddenly the blank world around the man changed, and shone with a bright and brilliant light. He squinted, unfamiliar to the colors, the movement, the life. The woman pulled him along, pointing to a forest, filled with blossoming flowers and elegant trees.
The old man looked around in bewilderment at the world around him, he sniffed the flowers, taking in their hues of purple and red. He ran his hand along the trees, feeling the rough brown bark he had only known before as pain. Now everything had a different meaning, everything had a different life.
The old man was happy, for once in his life. This vivacity of the world around him, it made him smile. His heart beat faster as he looked around, everything so bright, and it was always changing.
The man followed the woman deep into the woods, acting like a young boy that had found a new place he could play in. He darted back and forth between the trees, watching birds and imitating their calls, staring at chipmunks who for a while stared back, and then continued on in their search for food. He saw a wolf and bravely walked towards it, holding out his hand. The wolf growled, but then it stared up at the old man's eyes. It would come back for him, but for now, it was tracking a deer's scent. The old amn brushed his hand along the wolf's black fur as it walked away, and he continued walking into the forest.
The man saw a squirrel skitter in front of him, and he pointed at it, a huge grin on his face. The woman next to him smiled, basking in his happiness and joy. She placed her hand on his, and he kneeled down, bowing and then kissing it. She laughed, and he smiled shyly. He was a man of the old times, where doors were opened for the fairer of kin. He stood up, and she pointed to a small clearing. He followed her there, and she showed a rock to sit in, and there they stayed, watching the sunset until there was no more light left in the sky.
At once the woman's attitude changed. She became somber, and her face contorted in fear. Her eyes flicked back and forth. She pushed the old man's shoulder and pointed. He turned around, at once his smile turned into a grimace. The forest was on fire. The woman pointed in the direction away from the fire, and started running.
The old man followed close behind, new found strength in his legs, strength that he hadn't had since he was young. He was able to follow the woman, darting around trees and fallen branches. He was right behind the girl, when suddenly a huge crack shot through the air.
A large tree branch, larger then anything the old man had ever seen fell off of an old oak tree, blocking the old man from the woman. She turned around, mouthing the words "I'm sorry" and then continued off into the woods. The old man watched her and her golden hair until she disappeared into the woods. Then he fell to his knees, tears rolling down his face as the fire surrounded him. He sat there, holding his eyes open against the smoke, watching the fire twist and curl, majestic and chaotic, friendly yet painful. He died with a smile on his face.
Somewhere back in reality, the old man's body stiffened and his heart fell still. Five minutes later nurses rushed in, along with a doctor, and they pumped and pounded on his body with no avail. The doctor walked out, his hanging, tears falling from his eyes.
The family is called in, and they sit around the body of their father and grandfather in silence. Eventually the man's son stood up, kissed his father on the cheek, wrapped his arm around his wife, and brushed a tear off of her cheek. They walked out with their two children in their arms, silent and quiet.
Eventually the old man's body is buried, and the priest stood over the gravestone chanting from a book, singing the dead man's praises and mentioning his failures. Finally the family walked away and headed off, back to their lives, their family now one more man lighter.
Somewhere far up above the old man alights on a cloud, seated by the rest of those lucky enough to live well and worthy lives. He looked down at them for the first time, seeing their faces and their tears, and he cried. And the tears fell down, and there was a light rain, making the mood on Earth quiet and somber, as an angel cried.