Friday, February 24, 2017

Flea Market Photos

      The first day of first grade was uneventful. My teacher passed out our spelling worksheets, and I finished early. The other kids were goofing off around me, gossiping, and the boy was managed to even sneak his pet frog next to me, which was indiscreetly ribbiting. Luckily for him, Mrs. Hibbens is as deaf as she is ancient, so he had no problems concealing in his book bag. I was more concerned with my little paperback copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
      The little blonde head in front of me spun around and awkwardly made eye contact with me, but I was too focused on my paperback to care.
     "Hey, watcha readin'?" he asked with a toothy smile.
I ignored him.
     "Do you like Mrs. Hibbens? She looks kind of like a troll, doesn't she?"
I ignored him.
     "Do you like Kyle?"
I blushed but still ignored him.
     Everyday for two weeks this cycle repeated. He would try to engage me, and I would brush him off. About books, toys, games, his mom, whatever his heart desired. He'd follow me like a shadow everywhere, to lunch, recess, and even gym.
     "Do you ever talk?" he said through a face of freckles and an agape mouth.
     "Yes" I replied.
     The way his face lit up was like it was his life-long goal to hear me speak. It felt... warm. And I guess he thought that it meant that this small indulgence on my part was an invitation to be my friend.
     And I didn't mind that. He started walking me home, and it was nice. It was like a light in my life in the darkness.
     One day his face fell, with news of his dad finding a job in a far away land, and he would have to leave soon. We spent everyday since together, him speaking to me in my silent understanding. Some things were left unsaid. Well, a lot of things, but we forged something unbreakable, and he taught me so much more than I could ever learn in a book.
     It's been a while since his seat been filled since he left, but the light is still there. With me.





*** I'm having trouble uploading the photo****





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