The Parts of You I Love

The first time I saw him, I could tell he hated his bionic leg. He carried himself the same way; eyes downcast, and fists clenched tight as he leaned against the Willow tree. Unlike all the romance movies where the wind blows persons hair majestically, the sky today held no sign of a breeze. The sky was a deep blue void behind his still frame. He looked so small compared to the giant Willow tree that sat upon that lonesome hill. The cloudless blue sky, the lush green grass, the tall whisky Willow, and that dark silhouette of a boy; they were an image that would be ingrained in my mind forever. They made up a painting that gave you the feeling of peace; yet you knew that the day in which this painting would take place was not a happy one for the small boy on the painted hill.