[1] the begging of the Dancing in the Sun

I have been dopey all day.

'where is stupid laptop?'

I opened the file and looked
at the crammed letters.

'Those are too heavy...'

But I have to send anything today.
I just have time now.
And I just wanted to finish copy quickly.

Person who is in the association asked me
that they want my story
for their autumn magazine 2 weeks ago.

I already have 2 pages enough to send,
but I wasn't sure if the two pages
would be okay.

As I tried to expend the simple story,
the sentences become verbose.

After roughly making the pages,
I put a plausible file name.

Since it was a request without fee anyway,
I decided that there was no
need to struggle anymore.

Quick after I sent an e-mail,
new request came to reduce the amount.

'Are you kidding me?'

I numbered the paragraphs
and sent them a reply to pull out
the paragraph whichever you wanted.

Then, I leaned my neck against the chair.

I still have been dopey.

I thought I knew why I was so dazed.

The guest I met yesterday
was definitely different.

He was polite and nice,
just like any other guest.

But he was different.

It wasn't because he was a transgender.

I felt him as his gender from start to finish.

And whatever surgery
he did was not the reason.

I kept looking for a reason in my head.

'Why my heart flutters?'

I was already aware.

His smile, tattoos, clothes and shoes,
hair and piercings.

Every single one of them was left as
an afterimage in my head.

White T-shirt and black pants,
black sling back on his shoulder,
Tuck it behind from the front of braid
and tied behind back, long hair.
piercings on nose and ears,
arm tattoos,
small but neat appearance,
humble and warm attitude
from beginning to end....

All I know is that
he is a 24-year-old college student
and Mexican-American.

He said he doesn't have a girlfriend,
but I can't believe it.
Luckily, I know his Instagram,
so I can look into it.

He told me I wasn't old yet,
and I didn't look old.
But the facts are true,
and flattery is flattery....

After a long time,
I opened the box, took out the stone
and took out the paints.

I started dotting
the Blue Evil Eye for him.

'I knew it already.
I knew it at first sight.
So what can I do?... Nothing.'

I am supposed that I'll be angry
when I see him tomorrow.
Because I know I can't do anything.
If he reads my feelings,
he'll be fed up with me....

I really have naver ever even imagine.

I never thought I'd feel it again.

If I were his age,
I had go straight to him,
then no matter what.

A big thing happened.
After 45 birthdays....

Eyes like honey