I felt the cool breeze for the first time, and the darkness in my eyes made it feel like ice. I realized I was no longer in a world I know, but an infant in a world I have never been before, a world in which I could not see. Like walking for the first time, I took baby steps, each step gradually getting longer until I stumbled. Again I started with small steps until I regained my confidence. I was amazed at the detail I could feel under each step, every bump, dip, and crunch was felt and recorded onto a blank tape. I felt the letters on head stones and shapes of statues. Each of my hands molested the object as my mind scoured through images at lightning speed until finally I was struck. Bright as a shooting star I could see the images; I could see them with my hands. A feeling overcame me, much like the one you get after riding a bicycle without training wheels for the first time. I was proud.
             The only sound I could hear was of my partner, each word as valuable as platinum. Every command was met instantly, for fear of my own safety. Every other sound blocked out, for my mind felt that they were unimportant. If a command was given wrongly, or not at all, I suffered the consequences. My trust was fragile and when it was broken, it took all the kings men a while to put it together again.
             For some reason my mind was putting images in my head, trying to give myself a map or path to relate to. This never seemed to work, and yet my mind never quit. I would get to a step or a drop and my mind seemed to think I was on a 50 foot cliff. It wasn't something I necessarily enjoyed, but afterwards seemed humorous.
             The sense I rely most on in life is my sense of sight. That is my "strongest" sense. Without this sense, I figured that the other four senses would equally pick up the slack. What I found interesting is that the next most reliable sense, touch, did most of the work, while others I rarely used a
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