My brother James loved watching clouds with his sky blue eyes. His twin, Julia, preferred the night with her deep, dark eyes. But Julia wasn’t a dreamer, like James. He daydreamed all the time, even at night, because he suffered from insomnia. My mother always warned him to get his head out of the clouds and his eyes on the road ahead of him, even when he was little.

Once, when we was five, he replied to this, “Mama, my head’s not in the clouds. The clouds are in my eyes, and it hurts.” She scolded him for such nonsense, but later the teacher told her he was having trouble in class, and she suspected it was because of poor eyesight.

So he got glasses, but when he would watch the clouds, he took off the glasses so he could see the clouds better than anyone else. Eventually, the glasses shrunk to contacts.

One day after high school, his eyes were red and itchy, and he took out the lenses, but his eyes still bothered him. Julia offered to take a look into his sky blue eyes to see what was wrong, and I walked into their room just in time to see Julia falling through the clouds in the sky inside his blue eyes.

After that, James’ eyesight got worse and worse, and now he sits at home feeling the sun on his face and the wind in the trees and the clouds in his eyes.

By Elizabeth, 12th grade
[photo by evakke via flickr]

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