2008 Woodie Awards
The Exact Color of Your Eyes
Conor Leary '11
Issue date: 10/2/08 Section: Portfolio
"You're my soul mate," proclaimed the young girl, who could not have been more than eight years old, as the wind brushed her sunflower-yellow dress and teased her short, chestnut hair. A shiny yellow ribbon held the strands from her beautiful eyes and her button nose. From afar, she was a perfect little jewel and the scene she began could warm even the coldest of hearts. As the words left her lips, she reached out and folded her fingers around the hand of a young boy clearly her equal in age. He did not pull away or shrink off and throw a tantrum like any other boy his age who faithfully believed any contact with a girl would give him "cooties." The phase was universal. But the little boy turned his chin towards the sky, his tawny hair soft as it fluttered over his blinking eyes, remaining only on the angelic face before him. He stared and waited for further explanation as the little girl pulled his hand into a swing, their fingers never falling apart even as the breeze fought to invade their embrace.
"What's that mean, Chrissie?" The question only brought an adorable smile to the young girl's face. Carnation pink filled her cheeks and she beamed as she blushed, showing her body's reaction proudly, revealing the purest velocity of her tiny, but strong, heart.
"It means my hand and yours fit together the best." She lifted her hand sitting in his and turned his dirty knuckles over. His hand clutched her white fingers like a bouquet of frosted lilies, the embrace gentle, as if he feared crumbling the precious metaphor. There were no spaces between their fingers, every crevice was filled with the blushing of youthful skin.
"And because we can stare into each other's eyes the longest without blinking."
He looked up from their tangled fingers and found her eyes much closer than they had been, their noses nearly touching. He tripped backward in his surprise, but Chrissie was there, her grip tightening to protect him. He delicately stepped very near to her, their noses touching faintly; to stare the best he could into her eyes.
"What's that mean, Chrissie?" The question only brought an adorable smile to the young girl's face. Carnation pink filled her cheeks and she beamed as she blushed, showing her body's reaction proudly, revealing the purest velocity of her tiny, but strong, heart.
"It means my hand and yours fit together the best." She lifted her hand sitting in his and turned his dirty knuckles over. His hand clutched her white fingers like a bouquet of frosted lilies, the embrace gentle, as if he feared crumbling the precious metaphor. There were no spaces between their fingers, every crevice was filled with the blushing of youthful skin.
"And because we can stare into each other's eyes the longest without blinking."
He looked up from their tangled fingers and found her eyes much closer than they had been, their noses nearly touching. He tripped backward in his surprise, but Chrissie was there, her grip tightening to protect him. He delicately stepped very near to her, their noses touching faintly; to stare the best he could into her eyes.
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