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His eyes always sought, his mind always thought. As a child he'd spent years with his cheeks pressed against glass; the window of a train carriage, watching the world rush past; or perhaps the wall of an aquarium, ogling the creatures inside. Maybe the tall window that looked out into the garden. Neighbours with their petty lives and petty eyes would stare at the street, stutter and tutter at the gossip; the boy would stare at the grass and the trees, the birds and the bees, always in awe and delight.

Now he has grown into a skinny pretty boy, sometimes quiet, sometimes wild; always with that same eye. His eyes zip and zing behind glasses now, portable glass, providing his own window onto all glorious creation. True curiosity never killed the cat, but imbued it with nine lives' worth; for he is no one-trick pony of interest, chooses not to choose, and everything takes a glancing fancy.

Oh how I delighted at first when he shone his spotlight on me, and held in his hands that spectacled observatory; he pursued my knowledge with innocent hunger. He longed to hold in his thoughts all that I encompassed, whilst I wished to hold only his hands. He was intense and interest embodied.

Then I grew to envy all, for all would still delight him. His eyes did not look just in mine, but still at all passing creation. He would spend as much time on miscellany as his Miss! I had thought his interest in me was above the norm, that I was special - not to be treated the same.

Yet this very trait he did explain, and I grew to love again; for he did not lose anything since he was a child. We found everything amazing when we were all small and crawling. Then we are told to change our ways, change the way we spend our days. Culture tells us to be cynical, to be stern, not to do things out of turn. We corrupt out childhood interests by choosing one and not the rest, becoming sole-minded and sincere.

Well, then, my boy is soul-minded; everything is special. Love, curiosity and awe are not finite, to be diminished by sharing; feelings are endless and free, and my boy, he feels them for me.

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