Dandelion Boy (Sample)

The Grass Beneath You

I am hit in the face with a heavy purse.

My nose burns and my eyes tear up.

"I'm so sorry," a flower with gold hair apologizes.

But she is smiling and so is her male companion.

Not an apology.

A joke.

They laugh as they walk away,

not even waiting

for my response.

"She's so short," I catch the male exclaim.

"Yea, I didn't even see her," the girl adds with a giggle.

This is how

I disappear.

I have heard it all.

"I didn't even see you there."

"No offense, but I totally forgot you were here."

"You're like a ninja. You just appear out of nowhere."

No.

I did not just appear out of

nowhere.

I was always

here.

My eyes go back to the ground,

and I keep walking.

I just remembered that

inspirational speaker

that visited the school freshman year.

He had a bunch of magic tricks and dances.

I can't recall all the songs he danced to or

how many pigeons flew from his hat.

But something that stuck with me was this one thing he said:

"Every person has a story. He or she is the main character."

It's true.

As we walk by each other,

each person is thinking only of themselves--

sympathizing only with themselves.

And that is normal.

In their stories, it is all about them.

I and the rest of the population are

minor characters and that easily changes

with a shift

in perspective.

I'm not trying to say I am any different.

It is just in my story,

I pictured something different.

No main character,

just nice people.

No more flowers or weeds or grasses.

It's as childish as crayon drawings of stick people holding hands.

But I want that.

I want somebody.

Not a boyfriend.

Not even a friend.

Just someone that might

understand.