Looking At The Small Wonders

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This is an asignment from English class, hope you enjoy and pleace don't judge me. I do not, in any way, think like this character. The assignment was "please write something that shows how people can use outer appearance to judge others, based on prejudice". I had to include some words that made the entire thing a bit strange, but still, not the worst out there.


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She had wondered for a while why everyone is so different.


To her, it seemed natural to believe that everybody would behave like her, perfecty natural, as it was her first instincts she acted on (as did most people, which was why she thought it so strange). She always did what felt most true to herself, and what other people would expect of her, and so it was weird when people acted out of turn.


Like this litte guy she'd met just yesterday - he was probably five, looking normal for five-year-olds, though maybe a tad big for his age. He had olive skin. Black hair. Brown eyes. He had teeth and all, you'd think he was just like any other person with five year's worth of experience, but he blew it all away with the first words out of his mouth.


"Have you seen my new shooes? They're sandals."


Like she couln't see that already. They were on his feet, after all, and she always checked a person's feet first. You could usually tell if someone was nasty by their feet. And his were clad in brand new sandals. Blue, even.


She'd always liked the color blue, but this guy'd made her change her mind. Slightly. The sky was still blue, so the jury was still out on that one. She loved the sky.


This boy though - for he was just five years old after all - he wore blue like he wished he was the color himself. It was everywhere on him. Everywhere. All his clothes had that color, and his hair had a blue stipe in it, and his sunglasses had blue frames, and then there was those blue sandals.


"And they match my clothes, look!" he'd said then, holding his right foot high in the air to show her the beautifullness of the underside of his shoes, which really wasn't all that beautiful, if she was to be honest. She thought she saw poop. Or maybe just dirt?


Or both?


"And my glasses are on fire!" he screamed, and took them off to show her the painted-on blue flames on the frames. She didn't really look, but it was hard to look away from something so disturbing. This boy, she'd thought then - this boy.


"They're literally on fire!" (She cringed when he used the word wrong).


And if that wasn't different (or vaugely weird), she didn't know what was. He'd sertanly strikken some place inside her and made himself visible in the otherwise crowded brain of hers. But thinking about him just made her feel odd - like she had to throw up, but all that came was a barp. Admid it, all people feel like that is weird.


He had been anoying in a way few people managed, and she had difficulities believing how he'd managed to piss her off with just being himself for five seconds. Literally. Five seconds, and she'd resented him.

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