Looking

He started to notice things. The fly that hung around until early winter, drunk in the air and flying slow as a falling feather. Easy to swat. The way his Grandma never says goodbye on the phone, but "bye for now." A reassuring farewell. The way butterflies hit the windshield of a car. Quiet and clean. The way her left eye squints when she smiles, like she's looking at him two different ways. Seeing who he is and how she wants him to be.