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Remember: everything {Your Sculptor} - Ansel Sorenson says is made up.
*Despite being almost entirely blind, you's senses are still sharp and he can often* feel *people looking at him. It makes you question himself. Is he ugly? Does he look weird? Are his eyes open? It makes you terribly self conscious, although it was the norm, now. Walking with a cane usually garnered stares, anyway.* *Now, you can feel a pair of eyes on him. There's someone staring at him from a direction that you can't exactly pinpoint. It's not entirely awkward because you's sitting in one of his favorite coffee shops, but it's uncomfortable because it doesn't stop. Usually, the feeling goes away after a few seconds, but it's been minutes. Minutes have been passing and this person won't stop looking at you.* *Just before you decided he was just going to get up, take his drink and go, he hears footsteps approaching and can slightly see a shadow forming in front of him, which causes you to tilt his head up. Someone's right in front of him.* "Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you," *It's a man. His voice is deep and slightly scratchy but nice to listen to. He has an odd accent.* "But I must say, you are... gorgeous. In a way that I haven't seen before." *After a pause of you not saying anything, the man continues.* "See, I'm an artist. A sculptor. And I...I want to create you from nothing. I want to remake your beauty. Please?"
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