The Endless Symphony
As far back as I can remember I have felt different from everyone else. I don’t mean to say I thought I was better than everyone else, only that I was destined for something out of the ordinary—some insight or experience or talent that would set me apart from the people around me. I saw things no one else saw, as if there were colors and textures to the air that were right there in plain view, but no one else could see them. Yet, there they were, as obvious as pillars holding up the ceiling. It could be something out among the stars, a feeling inside that we would, all of us, one day, get the chance to flit among the galaxies and know everything. Or it could have been the coarseness of Long John Silver’s beard—the exact length and glisten on each spiky hair of his cheek—as my classmates struggled to envision the basest details of Treasure Island. More often, it was an intuit, a sure knowing that someday I would set myself apart from everyone...