Although she had been blind since birth, lived alone, and rarely ventured into the outside world, in her apartment, Silvia was ‘at least protected’ (as her mother called it). Therefore, while speaking to her mother on the phone, Silvia knew instantly that it was foolish to curse in pain when she smashed her toe into the leg of the table. 

  Here it comes, she thought. 

  “Are you pacing around again, young lady?” her mother said. “A lady in your condition should be sitting.” 

  It’s not a ‘condition,’ Silvia replied in her mind, mute and enraged. 

  Within Silvia, all the cruel words that her mother had ever spoken about her blindness were stirred during the silence. The sediment that settled to the bottom rose within Silvia’s racing heart, contaminating her otherwise-gentle nature. 

  “Are you even there?” her mother said. “Aren’t you supposed to be sitting like I told you? I don’t know why you insist on learning things the hard way. This is why you should be living with me. Then I wouldn’t have to worry. Even Betty, although she has webbed feet and a grown son living at home—never mind about that—agreed that my health would improve if you moved back in. All this worrying will be the death of me. You know how I suffer for you!” 

  It’s been five years and you’re not dead yet, Silvia thought. 

  “Are you there? I can hear you breathing,” her mother said. “What. Is. That. Sound? Are you alone? Young lady, do you have the radio on while I’m talking to you? You probably have the lights on too, don’t you? Why you think the electric company needs donations is beyond me!” 

  “Mother, I…” Silvia started. 

  “Oh, so you are there!” 

  “Mother, I... love you.” 

  “Oh, Silvia, I love you, too. What would I ever do without you?” 

The Conversation appears in Resistance, Revolution and Other Short Stories.