It's odd how ideas come to mind and they don't leave until they are safely written down. This is one of those things. Today I had a a LOT of time either on the bus or at a bus stop. See, when I happen to be drinking tea instead of watching for the bus... I miss it! Therefore, I wait.
Two tall, charming boys.
Both 19, with their whole lives ahead of them.
One wants to be a banker, the other, a carpenter.
One grew up in a close-knit family of 4, the other, a sprawling family of 7.
One enjoys the thrill of driving, while the other prefers to be the passenger.
On a sunny July 1st, both boys walked in the glow of the sun and the bustle of the city’s festivities.
Passing on the boardwalk, the mob stares at each other: curious, but kind. This comfortable rhythm is broken as one of the boys passes through in a deserted path through a critical crowd.
Stop. Silence. Expressionless. “It feels like night already”, the boy thinks.
Three year old Casey Jenkins is bundled up in his mother’s arms, smiling over her shoulder at a tall, charming boy. He is colour blind.
He can’t tell the colour of a smile.