Oh, God! Adam cried in desperation. I'm blind.

He waved his hands in front of his face. Nothing. It was like being in a sea of tar.

"I can't see!"

"I helped you."

"What did you do to me!?"

"The important thing is what I'm about to do."

Adam opened his mouth to scream for help, but the homeless man's calloused hand stopped him at the last second.

"Shh."

Shaking, Adam arched his back and threw a punch where he expected the man would be. His fist hit nothing but air, and this crushed his spirit. For the rest of his life, he'd never know where things were. Of course, the rest of his life could only be a few more seconds, so perhaps his suffering would be short.

"Get away!"

"Relax. Your blindness is like the darkness in a tunnel."

Adam crawled back, swinging his right arm forward with all his strength. In the menacing blackness, the putrid air disoriented him even more; there was no up or down, north or south.

"What made that noise?"

An ominous silence followed his question.

After stumbling on the irregular asphalt, Adam gave up on getting to his feet. He then fumbled around on the floor, trying to find something to defend himself with or at least get his bearings. When none of that worked, he rubbed his eyes. His fingers came close enough to brush against his eyelashes; still, a black veil had fallen over him.

For a moment, he thought of his ophthalmologist, doctor Orozco, and the hollow promise he made him four years ago before Adam's laser eye surgery: You will see like a hawk forever.

In the hours that followed that procedure, Adam grew restless. He described the experience as seeing the world through a foggy glass. The eerie bright lights, his inability to read—It all made for a terrible afternoon. But at least, back then, he'd been home in his cozy bed and not in a dirty parking lot, trapped with a murderous madman.

Adam leaned against a column, panting. What do I do? He feared death could come at any moment. Maybe the homeless man would stab him, leaving him to drown in his own blood, or perhaps he planned on smacking his skull open, each blow deforming Adam's head until one eye popped out of its socket and his brain turned to mush.

None of that happened, however.

The drip-drop of a distant leak interrupted the stillness of the air as Adam waited with his eyes closed. What if I open them and I can see? He wondered, overwhelmed with anxiety. Don't be stupid! You're dead. How did you let this happen? You should have looked for the audio file some other way.

A deep sense of dread sunk in as Adam thought of all the ways he was letting his siblings down. I would rather die than being blind. Then he realized dying would leave Bianca and Dario penniless. He had life insurance, but inflation had devoured whatever they'd get if he ended up in a casket tonight.

"Hello?"

No answer.

Not long after, the elevator doors opened and closed. Did someone come? His head hurt. Did the homeless man leave?

He couldn't be sure, but after a while, he suspected no one else was down there. A glimpse of hope pierced through the desperation.

"I'm still alive."

Little by little, breathing became more manageable, and his surroundings took shape. It was like watching everything through a telescope, but then Adam remembered what the homeless man said. He didn't lie. It was akin to going through a long tunnel, and at the end of it, a world full of colors he longed for awaited him.

At first, Adam didn't allow himself to believe things would get better. If it were his brain playing tricks on him, the disappointment would be too much to bear. Then he realized there was no way to imagine all the details of the stains on the floor or the empty table a few feet ahead. He laughed as the heavy fear of living in darkness lifted from his chest. Even under that pale blue light, he could have sworn his eyesight had improved.

"Thank God," he said, crying tears of relief.

After making sure the homeless man had vanished, Adam headed back upstairs. While in the elevator, he kept looking at his hands, fearing he'd go blind again.

He didn't.

His eyesight was great, but so was his sense of smell.

A quick whiff at his sleeves confirmed the stench from the parking lot had followed him; his sweatshirt, still wet from the liquid the man had spat on him, reeked. If I don't shower soon, I might stay like this forever. But first, Adam needed to finish his task. At least I can tell Papa Smurf the crazy old bastard left.

No one opened the door on the tenth floor after he rang the doorbell and knocked on the gate. Not a sound. Not the dog nor the vallenatos nor the pregnant girl. Quieter than a graveyard, Adam thought. Feeling too grateful to curse his luck (getting his eyesight back can do that to a man), he took this as an opportunity to shower and get clean clothes on him.

To do that, he broke his promise of not returning to his apartment. I can't ask Lili for yet another favor. Besides, this way it will be faster.

A quick turn of the faucet knob proved him wrong.

Typical—no water.

Adam went through his stuff and realized what he wanted to wear was in his backpack in Lili's place. Whatever. He grabbed a change of clothes off the carpet and undressed. The thud of his neighbor's old Nokia phone hitting the floor reminded him he had the Fat-Dude-that-Walks on him.

Eager to test his sight as much as possible, Adam checked out the device. It's just as I remember it. There was but one contact saved. It was called Other Me, and it showed Lili's new cell phone number.

Should I call her? She had a bucket of water in her bathroom. Adam hesitated. Then he had an idea. Instead of troubling his neighbor, why not take advantage of the gym showers he never used? He'd kept his membership out of habit for years now.

"I can shower there," he said, finding in the sweater he had chosen a pack of Tic Tacs filled not with mints but antidepressants.

I'll ask Magda to check my eyes too.

It had been months since he'd indulged with those pills, but the situation called for it.

After all, he had lost and regained his eyesight that day, and it was only noon.