The Mathematician had one of those logical minds. The ones that you know will take him far in life. I could see him in the future, buttoning his button up, tying his tie, handling his brief case to set off to another day at work. But I understand that this is far away as I observe him gently penning numbers on a paper. The cuffs of his flannel shirt were rolled messily up his sturdy forearms. The Mathematician brought a hand up to his face, resting below his chin in puzzlement. The pad of his thumb brushed over his not quite grown in mustache as his brown hunting shoes tapped against the waxed tile. The Mathematician was themed umber, for the spiral strands nested on top of his head were the same color as his tender gaze. He rose, placing his wide binder aside. A low groan left his lips as he stretched before he sat back down to resume his work. I strode over to The Mathematician, leaning over a chair.
“You got so tall. It’s not fair.” I commented with a pout. That’s all I had to say for him to start to bluster, tripping over his words clumsily. The Mathematician’s voice was calming, deep, almost raspy. I could listen to him talk for hours for he always had something to say. I find that with people, they always have something to say, something to tell. You just have to ask them.
“Well,” the Mathematician stammered, finally noticing his ranting. “There a-are certain advantages to being short. I-I mean, you don’t run into things.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to climb up onto the counters to reach things on the high shelves!” I argued. “Hide and seek is the only thing being short is good for.” And so we went back and fourth debating. The corners of The Mathematician’s mouth started to turn up a bit and he held an impish expression that I hadn’t seen for so long. One thing that we both share is our love to tell people that they are wrong, so I guess we would make better lawyers than anything. The Mathematician stated facts and rebuttals with a certain joy in his umber orbs. His lips pursed with every counterclaim. His fingers drummed on his knee with every turn of those wheels inside his head.
But our obligations cut our fiery battle to a close.
“Short people.” The Mathematician sighed under his breath.
“Tall people.” I spat back with a small smile.
So you see, when you look into people and listen to what they say, you soon find what makes them happy. And that’s all I want to see anyone be.