Stop Looking at Me

He eased his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and focused upon the energy deep within his body. It began as a fluttering in his stomach, before gradually feeding outward. It culminated in his hands, where a gentle glow formed.

When his eyes opened again, the light grew outward from his palms. At first, it was nothing more than streamers of light arcing through the air, yet with dedicated motions of fingers and hands, it took on various shapes. Dragonflies and hummingbirds, dragons and eagles. They flew around his head, dove down low, trailed light through the air. His eyes followed dutifully, beaming with confidence at his own artwork, while his hands conducted a silent orchestra.

And then his eyes fell on the open doorway, where he saw a young woman standing there. She had a smile on her face and snickered at the sight before her.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” the man shouted.

“Just watching.”

“Well, stop looking at me!”

The woman joined him in his room, intent on encouraging him. “It’s all right, I’m not making fun of you. I just wish you’d told me sooner.”

The man sat on his bed, keeping his hands in his lap and his eyes on the floor. “I used to be so good at it, used to entertain the kids in my village. But that was decades ago.”

The woman sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, I thought it was beautiful. Do it again?”

The man’s smile was almost imperceptible, but with a single nod, he raised his hands again. “Anything for you, my love.” And, with some focus, the first shape he made was a single rose, just for her.