Young Grasshopper 3

After my talk with the elder I felt all the more compelled towards Dusty; to prove not only to myself, but to everyone, that the impossible was possible.

A month later nothing had changed. I hung upside-down from a light pole, watching him on his walk to work fiddling with his phone. I sighed heavily, mourning the image of us walking together.

Dusty glanced up and did a double take, stalling dead in his tracks. He stared up a something, something shocking judging from his expression. Pulling myself upright I looked over my shoulder, trying to spot what caused him such alarm. Furrowing my eyebrows I looked back at him severely confused, seeing nothing.

Dropping from the pole to the sidewalk, I folded my wings tightly against my back and slowly approached. Eyes widening more than I thought possible Dusty stumbled back, in his haste tripping over a crack and falling onto his butt.

“What’s wrong?” I asked of myself, mystified as to what was causing such a reaction.    

Slowly, as if staring in a horror movie, Dusty raised his hand and pointed a finger – a finger directly at me. My heart stopped and dropped in realization. Somehow, someway, he could see me. A flurry of scenarios flashed through my mind, all very very upsetting. My world failed me. The baker and his wife divorced and her father burned the bakery down. The banker committed suicide in her new car because stocks suddenly dropped. The things I revolved my world around shifted away one by one, leaving me stranded in a strange new place I wasn’t sure I wanted to live in.

“Why are your eyes so big and orange? Why do you have wings? Are you going to eat me?” He asked. “You look like a grasshopper, only a human one…” He trailed off, turning his head and narrowing his eyes to get a clearer look.

Boldness gripped me. Rushing forward I crouched directly in front of him, relishing my reflection in his eyes. “Can you? Can you really see me?” I asked.

“Whoa, you’re kind of neat looking…” He reached out to touch my face. Instinctively I flinched back, but undeterred he pressed on until his palm rested against my cheek. He laughed. “Yeah, you’re pretty neat all right. What’s your name?”

“Angel,” I answered, and from then on acted as planet to the object which my whole world revolved around, Dusty. For that is all I ever called him. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s