"Malmus the Great did not want anyone to know who was behind this mutiny against their king, so he disguised himself at every meeting, wearing a hood and speaking through spiced cloths. He stooped his back and enlarged his walk. He cackled like every good bad guy should."
"I don't think this is how the story goes, Paw paw."
The old man peered over his glasses at the young boy in the race car bed. He lifted a brow. "Can you read?"
"No..."
"Then this this how the story goes."
The boy pouted but did not protest further. Paw paw cleared his throat and continued.
What he did not mention was that he could not read either. Not because he was illiterate, but because his eyes had clouded over a few months ago, and the darkness had overtaken his vision much quicker than he anticipated. He didn't want anyone to know. He walked now instead of driving. He watched old TV shows he had already seen so that he could laugh at the right places. He leaned close to his dinner plate, pretending to cool them off with his breath, but actually smelling each item to identify what he was about to eat. It wasn't an easy life, this cover up of his disability, but it was his and his alone. He did not want to be a burden. He did not want to lose himself.
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