Colors had a smell to them. Fortunately he had
a great sense of smell, because he could not see colors.
He saw sounds instead.
He heard things on his skin. He could feel
the taste of food by picking them up.
He primarily navigated our world with his nose. He could tell you exactly
what you were wearing with his eyes closed, but not when he was congested.
When he had a cold, he would need a decongestant or he'd be bumping into things left and right.
His eyes were only of secondary importance but he still relied heavily on them for communication.
If he closed his eyes, he would no longer be able to make out
what you said to him, or the loud concert he was standing in. It didn't matter
if he faced away from you though, he could see the sound waves bouncing off the walls and propagating around his body.
He had learned to interpret these waves as words. Different shapes and amplitudes would tell him what
people were trying to tell him with sound. He experienced touch as sound, but it didn't have a large impact on his life.
Pain was loud. Everything else was quiet.
As long as things were quiet, he knew he was relatively safe. At least for the moment.