Don't Change Your Smile

The Boy Who Repeats

There's this boy who sits and waits at the bus stop across from mine every day. There's always a different bus number, always a different graffiti on the bench, the bus always arrives at a different time.

But the boy is always the same. And I don't mean he's literally the same person every time (of course he is). I mean his appearance is always the same. He must be very confident.

He always has the same hair style. Wavy blonde curls that stop just above his eyes. The curls fall joyously in front of his ears, that just barely peak out from under the blonde culrs. The tips of his bright red ears peak cautiously around the wall of blonde flames, trying to make sure the coast is clear for their escape, but they never really do escape. His curls fall to either side every time he moves his head. The fire reaches, and struggles, and tries to get to the forrest full of wood that's in his eyes. And even though his wavy blonde fire reaches for his gorgeous green eyes, trying to start a forrest fire, the forrest is strong and the fire just can't reach it.

He wears the same coat every day too. Its a long-sleeved, halfway zipped, navy blue coat. It has fluff around the edges of the hood, and It's padded, patched, and sewn to keep him warm through all of winter. It hugs him, and comforts him, and tells him that, once again, he will be warm all winter long. It's reassuring, but he just puts his hands in his pockets and tells it 'I know'. The coat is just like a blanket someone would sloppily throw on while eating a bowl of popcorn on movie night. Or an ugly Christmas sweater on Christmas Eve that is absolutely hideous, but no one cares because it's so comfortable and they wouldn't feel right wearing anything else.

And he always wears the same pants every day. I mean, I'm sure they aren't the same pair of pants, but they always look exactly alike every day. They're dark, ocean blue jeans with tears over his knees. They try to hide his legs, but you can always see his muscles through the holes over his knees. He looks like a sailor who has become very accustomed to the storms of the sea. He knows the weak points, where the storms don't dare flood his ship, but he also explores the harsh points, where the storms play with each other and argue and fight. The tears in his jeans are scars that prove his adventures with the storms.

He's the perfect scaly-wag. Not like the drawings people make of the pirate who has an eye-patch, a striped black and white shirt, torn up red pants, a hook where his hand should be, and a pegged leg. Those scaly-wags only exist in fantasies and children's books. Those scaly-wags have an obnoxious parate on their shoulder that repeats what they say and ends up making noise while the pirate is trying to steal something, and then the royal guards come and bring about the pirates unformidable doom. Those scaly-wags get drunk and reek, and then accidentally fall over board and drown while they're sailing. Those scaly-wags smile, and then people scream and run, but they just laugh and enjoy it.

But that's not the kind of scaly-wag he is. He's a twenty-first century scaly-wag. He doesn't care what others think of him. He just wears something that makes him feel confident, puts his hands in his pockets, and say 'you can't change me. I will change if I want to. I like the way I am and you won't change a single thing about that.' And he doesn't change. His clothes, his hair, the confidents he radiates out of him.

But he does have something he changes willingly, because he just wants to. You could call it his parate because of all its different colors, and the fact that it makes sounds.

Its his headphones. He always has a different pair of headphones. And he always wears those headphones around his neck, so that from the angle I'm sitting at, those headphones cover the lower half of his face. His mouth. The part he would smile with.