are those real stars that hang in the sky? or are they man-made, a trick of the light?
Usually his mother’s stern tongue would cause him to brush it off, to take the important tidbits and conveniently forget the rest. But this time, he doesn’t, not as she speaks of Remi and the whole ordeal with being here. And maybe it’s because of the stories he’s heard of Remi, of the Alchemist and his excitement, that reins in the wild nature’s tendencies he has. But he listens, head nodding agreeably with that same grin. “Got it!” Does he? Hard to tell.
But they’re nearing the lighthouse and the cluster of homes and already there’s a bit of his childish anxieties reaching up for him, as he steps into the porch and stares at the door with a somewhat intense look. She tells him to knock, and he slings his bag over his shoulder, straightens his shirt, and lets his dual toned eyes focus on it. And then he knocks, heartbeat thundering with anticipation and wait.
But they’re nearing the lighthouse and the cluster of homes and already there’s a bit of his childish anxieties reaching up for him, as he steps into the porch and stares at the door with a somewhat intense look. She tells him to knock, and he slings his bag over his shoulder, straightens his shirt, and lets his dual toned eyes focus on it. And then he knocks, heartbeat thundering with anticipation and wait.
FELIX
