the girl's a recluse.

she looked up at me and smiled. i smiled back.

i felt moisture developing in my underarms and my neck began to feel warm, then hot. in. 1.2.3.4.5. pause. out. 1.2.3.4.5. my palms clammed.

and at that moment i wished for nothing more than to be able to take it back. i spoke without thinking. and now i understood why it was that i couldnt hate her even though everyone else seemed to have no trouble with it all. i couldn't hate her because she was the strongest person i knew. she knew what she was worth, and it didnt bother her to smile. everytime she opened her eyes, she'd see yellows and pinks, whites and oranges, peaches and reds and flesh smoother than my lips; even on days when evaporated ponds stood midway from dirt and space, blocking everyone else from the vivid colors of life, enveloping them in the musty gray vision they chose to label reality.

thump. thump. thump. she was alive.