Matthew’s Dream: A Short Story

Posted On January 31, 2021

“Matthew,” Mom said, walking into my bedroom one day. Behind her stood my dad and my sister Lucy. They all wore shy, excited smiles. Lucy had her hands clasped and she kept discreetly wiping her eyes and sniffing.  

“What’s going on?” I asked, standing up. 

“We…” Mom paused and looked at dad with tears in her eyes. I raised my eyebrows. Something was up. 

“Mom. Whatever it is, tell me and get it over with.”

Mom sat on the side of his bed, and I sat too. Dad and Lucy came in the room. Dad held something in his hand. 

“Son,” he said bluntly, “we got you the glasses.”

I jumped to my feet. “What! Mom—you know you can’t afford those! I told you not to!”

Mom stood and put a hand on my shoulder. “We decided it was important– we know how much it means to you.”

I looked at my father. “No joke?” I asked. “You really mean it?”

Dad sat down next to mom. He held out the box in his hand, a box that I would have recognized anywhere. “No joke. Please, Matthew. Try them.”

Mom sniffed and pulled out her phone, turning on the video camera. I glanced at it, then carefully opened the box. There. There were the glasses. The ones that would help me achieve my dreams.

Gingerly setting down the box and pulling the glasses from it, I felt my body shake—with nervousness or tears, I didn’t know. I slipped the glasses from the cover, fingering them softly. Then, I put them on. 

Suddenly the world was ablaze with fiery colors. I could see them all. My mom, she had red hair. Lucy wore a blue shirt. My dad wore grey. I looked down at myself, and it was like I was seeing for the first time. 

“Mom,” I said, and I didn’t even care that she had a camera pointed at me. “Now.. now I can be an artist.”

I had done paintings before, but really, though mom said they were amazing, I knew they could never be the way I saw in my mind. They could never be exactly right… but now, maybe they could. 

For I had been color-blind my entire life. 

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash.