The most beautiful thing

She opens her eyes in the morning to see dust in her room floating in the air. The light catches it in streams. She thinks this is beautiful.

He is on his 30th hour without sleep, but peers into his patient’s body, chest cut open, at a live, pulsing heart. It is burgundy and navy and crimson in the blue light of the operating room. He thinks this is beautiful.

She holds the pudgy hands of her 20 month old niece as she makes the exhilarating journey down the slippery metal slide. Her niece smiles, revealing one, lone tooth, the rest shining gums. One white-blonde curl sticks up amidst the rest. She thinks this is beautiful.

He watches her as she washes dishes, her arms submerged up to her elbows. Her hair has parted on either side of her shoulders, dangling down into the water, exposing the nape of her neck as it melts into the slope of her shoulder. He thinks this is beautiful.

She watches him as he plays his instrument, long slender fingers remembering exactly where to go. His eyes are closed and the music seems to be coming from somewhere else, unrelated to him as a human. She thinks this is beautiful.

He sits on a rough, upholstered chair and listens to his grandmother’s old clock chiming in the living room. His grandmother herself sits on the couch across from him, aimlessly petting her grey tabby cat. Her eyes are empty, unremembering, but her mouth smiles a faraway smile as her head stares straight ahead out of the window, strong, unknowing. He thinks this is beautiful.

She stands on the top of a cliff, overlooking the ocean. The wind whips about her, chilling every scrap of exposed flesh. Soon her whole body feels like ice. But the pelicans rise and fall in flight in front of her and the sound of the waves below obliterates all sound. She thinks this is beautiful.

Credit to: Graham Owen (http://www.grahamowengallery.com)

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9 thoughts on “The most beautiful thing

  1. Love this. Especially the old grandmother staring “straight ahead out of the window, strong, unknowing.”

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