Elijah, a true story.

Saturday, around 3 p.m., I was passing through the foyer of my hotel and on the desk behind the glass partition sat Elijah, the manager’s grandson. He has thin, light-brown hair, blue eyes, and a rosy mouth. He was coloring with big crayons, and he wanted everything in blue—houses, trees, sun and flowers. His grandma handed him yellow and he threw the potentially rising sun to the ground; she hands him brown and he tosses a future mansion into the sea; she hands him green and like a grand giant he hurls the would-be forest into the canyon! Finally, she hands him blue and he skies the world.

I said, “Hi Elijah,” and he looked at me and made a positive noise. After watching him for ten minutes or so, I said, “Time to go. Goodbye, Elijah.” His grandmother said, “Say goodbye to Brian, Elijah,” but that is something he never says. He just looks at me a while and goes back to creating his blue world.

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