jumpy

Before me sits a boy stuck in the moments transitioning from boy to man.  He has a frail frame...seems to be invisible in the white room that he is sitting in.  The vacancy of his skin shone vastly over the white paint on the walls.  His eyes a piercing gray dart around the room.  Shifting from space to space as if there were people here to assess.  On his foot he has a shoe; it must be made of wood because as he taps his foot with incessant repetition there is a clicking that echoes through the nearly empty room.  His hair, so fine that you may wonder if he is ill, wisps across his brow as a breeze enters through the window.  His lips are drawn into a tight line, yet he does not seem upset, merely concerned.  His arms and fingers twitch endlessly.  The twitches rake through his entire body at times.  I address him, and he literally leaps off his chair as if I had just said the most uncivil words possible.  He slowly collects himself and a trembling voice replies to my greeting.  With a nearly charming grimace of a smile he excuses himself: to be seen no more.