Visible. Radiant, out of reach, beautiful.
As if a mirage had fabricated in front of him, he reaches his hand out, yearning to touch the miracle that he knows is not there.
His hand passes through, yet his mind has not yet conceived the fact that he has no chance. No hope.
Invisible. Unfocused, dull, ordinary.
While he focuses his eyes on the visible, the invisible watch him, their eyes full of tears. Giving up, they float past him, and he senses nothing.
There is nothing.
Here and now, he is aware of someone's presence. As soon as the illusion disappears, a form approaches him. It needs to tell him something; to warn him, to bless him, to spite him.
Golden light shines behind it, a source unknown. A hidden sun.
He cannot look away, yet his eyes burn the closer the figure gets.
A hand, a touch, a choice reaches out and he hesitates.
How easy it would be to vainly search for the visible again, and how joyous it would be to find it and marvel at its splendor.
Yet he grasps the hand and his world dissolves, like an icy body heating up as soon as the sunlight finds it and envelopes in an embrace, like a long lost son, a forgotten friend, a summer love.
YOU ARE READING
Visible and Invisible
Teen FictionHenry and Diane are both odd. For their age, they certainly know a lot about relationships, even though they both have yet to be in one. When these two meet, a friendship begins and the two of them journey together through the difficulties of being...
