Further Thinking

I saw him run into his house, but it wasn't with the usual fervor I'd seen before.  There was something heavy pulling him down.  Something huge.

I only knew him as "that boy by the orange tree."  I suppose I was only "that shy shutterbug of a girl next door."  But I didn't mind.

However, I did mind how... dead he seemed.  Not like he wasn't breathing and all, but there wasn't that spark in his step, that alert demeanor in his face.

Or what I could see of his face through a camera lens.  A lean, intelligent face complimented by a pair of the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen.  I couldn't quite make out the color from a distance, there was almost always a glare of obscurity caused by his glasses.

I've always been curious, but never adventurous.  I'll wonder about something, but I won't have the guts to ask about it.  But something about this was different.

The last sliver of light had slipped that day when I heard something next door.

I watched; his figure settled under the orange tree.

I tried to stand up, but I stopped myself.

Maybe he doesn't want anyone intruding, I thought to myself.  Maybe I'll wait until morning.

But something possessed me to stand up and make my way towards the orange tree.

The End

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