The Spirit Animal

When one makes eye contact with a stranger, one usually avoids conversation, diverting gazes and attempting to seem busy when in reality, they could not be more bored. So when I locked eyes with the blond who was walking opposite of myself, I had not expected any sort of interaction, no matter how short, and I especially did not expect for it to end in a marriage proposal. But I did not have time to divert my gaze or feign action.

The moment he saw me, his face lit up in an expression of awe as he publicly bellowed, “You are my spirit animal!” with one hand to his heart while the other stretched outwards toward myself. I seemed to be at a loss for words but somehow, I had replied without missing a single beat, declaring, “You are my spirit animal! Marry me!” before he was lost in the sea of people.

Of course, the young man to which one proposes to stays in one’s mind as I attempted to describe him. Those whom listened would ponder with one hand on their chins, speaking their thoughts at a slow pace. They would furrow their brow, tapping before drawling,

“Oh yes. I know him. He’s a good guy. Certainly-” they paused. “Interesting.”

I found that he is interesting indeed, as by chance, I spotted his goose feather white tufts not even a few days later. Across a busy walkway, I had cried, with one hand on my chest and the other outstretched,

“Spirit Animal!” And he proclaimed likewise.

I had finally gotten a fair look at him. He was certainly hard to miss as his locks were an explosion if silken hair, bright like snow and just as soft to the touch. Similarly was his skin, which resembled flurry covered land in winter with gentle slopes and smooth angles. But his eyes, however, remained cocoa brown rather than blue like ice, though they had that look to them of snowflakes highlighting forest trees.
The rivulets which he spoke were kind and mild. However, his voice resembled more of a laidback summer rasp than a gentle winter one. He had that talent. The kind of energy that made it seem that you were never wrong, that you were always important. He is, in short, what others had always told me. He is indeed good and certainly interesting.

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