In-Between Alphabet: O is for Of

Of is curious, always wanting to know more detail.  It elucidates at length, distilling the topic smaller and smaller until it fits in the palm of someone’s hand.  Of isn’t content to see merely the general picture.  It scrutinizes each subject with squinted interest, examining and probing and categorizing until it’s satisfied. 

She says Of while her hands fly through the air, nails narrowly missing his eyes.  He ducks just enough to move out of the danger zone without bringing her attention to the movement, without bringing her attention back to herself and the fact that they’re sitting in the public arena of a fast food eatery.  The words spill from between her lips in waves; and she’s too excited, too passionate, too wrapped up in her thoughts to smile.  He pulls her earnestness around him like a cozy blanket.  Even if he doesn’t quite understand half the things she’s expounding on, it doesn’t matter.  Later on, the anxiety will silence her, shrink her to a fraction of her size, and still her expressive hands.  He’ll speak her words to the outside world, even if they don’t sound as beautiful filtered through the intonations of his voice.  He wishes she would show the world the same intelligent fervor she reserves for him, that he could convince her the world isn’t waiting around to mock her, that her past doesn’t have to mirror her present.  While her mind may understand, her heart refuses to comprehend.  She says Of, and he smiles encouragement at her, praying for the day those smiles manage to salve her soul.