I looked down at his eyes. They were blue. Blue as blue can get. I have blue eyes too, but I am not very used to seeing them. Even after teaching here for 9 months I am still not used to seeing blue eyes. Now I know why people make annoying comments about how pretty my eyes are. They are not so much pretty but mostly outstanding.
He had the naive, sweet, and trusting look of a 9 year old. He flung himself all me and rested his chest in the pit right below my ribs. He loved to hug me and I enjoyed his hugs.
I look down, and ask him: "What am I going to do this summer without your hugs, Scary Fairy?" (I call him by a name that rhymes with his real name. He and the rest of the class love it).
That Ghost hunts me....