by Eli Skipp
it's a fact of nature that markus will age gracefully. his eyes, which are so intensely blue it's
cliche, will take centuries to dull and his skin will always be that very specific grade of
translucent that defines suburban boys with technical professions. he will age in a way that
makes him look wise even if he's not. people will forgive the times when he makes exasperated
hand gestures or yells at his children because he will have grown a sense of taste when it comes
to dressing himself even if he still laughs raucously often enough, and because he is good at
more than one language, and because he'll have eaten food that isn't primarily corn and chemicals
for the majority of his life.
he'll be like that always, and has always been like that. all anyone remembers of him is cleanly
good-looks, even when he makes the same mistake most guys make and grows his hair out so long he
looks unkempt instead of devil-may-care and dark. he is an accidental breed of sophisticated, the
kind that comes with listening to toned down and esoteric music and buying wine by the crate, the
kind that completely and utterly forgives all of his awkward habits and smooths them over like
back-brushed cat hair.
Author's Note: this one in particular needs reworking.
Posted on 03/05/2010
Copyright © 2022 Eli Skipp