There was absolutely no sign of the golden searing disk that should have been suspended from the sky. But I wanted, at the very least, a warm glow. Nothing. As gray as possible and as miserably wet a fall rain spell can get. So I decided on running to my next class.
Opening the door to the classroom there I see him again, a silent angel in the guise of a man. Since there isn’t a spot next to him that’s available, I opt in sitting in the row behind him, where his beautiful mess of hair is clearly visible. A multitude of golden, gray, brown and ash, all blended together in the most natural flow and all scattered over the back of the oval that holds his face on the opposite side. A perfect straight nose and underneath it an overly-flawed pair of lips that could never fail to interest me.
I haven’t been able to see the rest of him yet. I don’t even know what his name is. All I see is a beautifully flawed boy who’s putting on his glasses for close reading. I cannot really say if they destroy the charm of his eyes because I have never witnessed their magic.
All the time utterly silent.
Silent as the professor arrives and for the umpteenth time cannot get the transparencies to project. The angel in gray noiselessly arms himself with the retractable silver pen and locks-on the virgin sheets of paper. As the professor starts to speak, so commences the enigma with scratches on the paper.
With every stroke he pigments the paper, my heartbeat quickens. I cannot do this. Concentration becomes infinitely more impossible by each moment and with it comes the realization that I will fail, yet again.
That silent, silent smile will never be for me. I will never be able to touch the slow curve of that neck and admire the beautiful things the light does to the golden hue. Those excruciatingly divine fingertips are not for me, but for another man I will probably never know.
Another realization ends in a heartbreaking disappointment as I finally, for the first time witness steel blue magic.