Empathy #1 ILLITERATI

The speed limit is 50 miles per hour.

I can't read.

It's a secret.

I can't read.

It seems that other people read or learned to read like a baby learns to walk, for a few days a few falls, then a few stumbles with a guiding hand, and then the next day, full strides, alone.

I can't read.

The first word is THE. Easy, no problem. It's a sight word, one I memorized.

I can't read.

The second word is SPEED. I can sound this one out. I spell it first, S-P-E-E-D. I start with the S, hissing like a snake. I hit the P and exhale like puffing out smoke, the double E sounds like me. Then the D which sounds like Duh. While pushing the letters together, I hear "peed" in the word which almost makes me laugh.

I can't read.

The word sitting in front of me now is, LIMIT. I can spell the letters to you perfectly, L-I-M-I-T. My brain sees the word TIME. That doesn't make sense to you, does it? But look closer, the last three letters of LIMIT are the first three letters in TIME. When I see LIMIT I read TIME.

I can't read.

The word before LIMIT is S-P-E-E-D. I know it immediately. Now I read SPEED TIME. But I know it's SPEED LIMIT.

I can't read.

Let me read it again. Now, when I look at LIMIT and I see SPEED. The words have crossed, they have snuck into each other's closets and are disguised as the other. I know it says SPEED LIMIT.

I can't read.

It probably takes more energy to not read. Think about it. I'm an actor. I fake sick, act like I forget. I go to the bathroom. I forget the instructions, lose them, forget my glasses. I'm a joker. I say I'm stupid, you say that I am not, then you help me because it's embarassing not to read and you wouldn't ask me. I'm a charmer. I'm convincing. Somebody has to read and it can't be me.

I can't read.

And sometimes the letters become ants and move around the page, they square-dance, they tango. And sometimes the W's will flip upside down and act like M's. The Y's will pose as V's. And the B's, the little ones, will run back and forth looking like d's, like sons of bitches.

I can't read.

I stop reading the sentence. I read it. I know it says, "The speed limit is 50 miles per hour." I saw the 50 and guessed the rest. I'm good at guessing.