The Tearsmith

Sky Blue

Strength is the abilityto touch with tenderness

others' vulnerabilities.

I once read something that Foucault wrote: 'Develop your legitimate strangeness.'

I had always cultivated my strangeness in secret because when I was growing up, I was taught that other people thought normality was more acceptable.

I spoke to beings that couldn't speak back to me. I rescued little animals that other people didn't even notice. I valued what other people thought was insignificant, maybe because I wanted to prove that even little creatures like me could count for something.

I lifted my hand. I was in the garden at home, and the sun was sweetly kissing the leafy branches of the apricot tree. I stretched out my fingers towards the tree trunk and helped a bright green caterpillar onto the bark.

I had found him in my bedroom underneath the window, and I was giving him his freedom back.

'There you are,' I whispered. I smiled as he crawled inside a crack in the bark. I clasped my hands together and watched him with a quiet sort of peacefulness.

I had always heard it said that it took great power, great strength to change the world.

I hadn't ever wanted to change the world, but I'd always thought that it wasn't grand gestures or displays of power that made a difference. For me, it was the little things that mattered. Everyday actions. Simple acts of kindness from ordinary people.

Everyone, no matter how small, can leave a bit of themselves in this world.

When I went back inside, I smiled. It was Saturday morning, and the irresistible smell of roasted coffee was wafting in from the kitchen. I closed my eyes, enraptured, taking in deep, satisfying breaths of it.

'Is everything okay?'

It was Anna's sweet voice. As I opened my eyes, however, I realised that she hadn't been asking me.

Her hand was resting on Rigel's head. He had his back turned to me, his black hair was messy and his hands were wrapped around a mug of coffee. He nodded, but I hardly noticed it. I was so enraptured by the sight of his fingers and the prominent veins on his forearm.

Those hands...were capable of both merciless violence and the most heavenly of melodies. His strong knuckles and lithe muscles seemed like they were made for subjugation, but his fingers could also caress a keyboard with such incredible delicateness...

I shook when Rigel got to his feet.

He stood to his full height, and for a moment, the smell of coffee lost some of its intensity. He headed towards the door, and I took a step backwards.

His eyes fixed on me.

I don't know how to explain it...I was scared of Rigel, but I didn't know what it was about him that terrified me so much. Maybe it was the almost violating way his eyes pierced deep inside of me. Maybe it was the way his voice was too mature for a boy of his age. Maybe it was because I knew how violent he could become.

Or maybe...it was because of the maelstrom of shivers he caused in me every time he so much as breathed nearby...

'Scared I'll bite you, little moth?' he whispered in my ear as he passed me.

I quickly jumped back, but by then he had already disappeared through the door behind me.

'Hi, Nica!'

I jumped, and found Anna smiling at me.

'Coffee?'

I nodded tensely, and then noticed with a rush of relief that she hadn't noticed the little exchange between Rigel and I. I joined her at the table for breakfast.