I have wanted to write this for some time now. Picture me as the classic writer scrawling across reams of paper only to scrunch them up and throw them onto a colossus mountain of discarded words. I don’t know why I can’t get such a simple story written down. Perhaps it is because there is no way to tie it up into a happily-ever-after. In fact, there is no neat way to tie it up at all, no revelation, no satisfaction, no ending.

But I have to find a way to write it down because the deck has a name, and it is an important name to me. I am uncomfortable with people assuming I have chosen its name because it sounds mystical and arcane. I am worried that people will think I am being flippant about the low vision community. So, here it is in all of its messy, incomplete glory: the story of how the Blind Tarot deck found its name.