Firefly Eyes MAG

August 3, 2011
By Jennifer Corbett BRONZE, Westford, Massachusetts
Jennifer Corbett BRONZE, Westford, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

There is a bluish shine on his face from the light of the television. We’re just sitting in silence and watching Idalis introduce new videos that we have both seen a zillion times. He seems interested nonetheless. I’m more interested in the patterns created in his eyes by the dancing light. His long eyelashes cast shadows like spiderwebs over his big curious eyes. He turns the volume up. Chords and rhythms and back-up singers fly out at me. The music is loud enough to shatter ear drums but I don’t hear a note. I am too involved in rediscovering his beauty. He raises the remote to the television again but this time to change the channel. He seems a little frustrated when the picture doesn’t change. He sits up and re-angles the remote, trying again. He finds something in black and white and goes back to relaxing. Not even the chipped tooth on the right of his smile mars his portrait. Sensing my stare, he glances at me, but then after a little smile he quickly turns away as if I were about to take his picture.

He asks if I want a drink. I tell him some apple juice would be good. I klunk my head back on the sofa with a sigh. He comes back trying not to spill our drinks, looking like he’s walking a tight rope. One of the Beverly Hillbillies makes him laugh. He looks at me to see if I found the humor, and, of course, I’m smiling, but not because of the television. Because my heart feels like singing every time I see that smile make his eyes light up like fireflies. He seems to have an aura of comfortable pleasure following him, like he’s got rainbows stored in his pocket. His knee is touching my pant leg and it feels like a good dream.

He shifts his position and now I can see what earlier I hoped I had imagined. On the other side, she is also gazing up at him. Their hands are tangled together like a big knot of unity. I brace myself as my heart crumbles to the floor, and only hope that while she looks into his eyes she is seeing in him what I see.

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