Blue Jay

         When I was a younger I met a girl that had made me her perfect friend. I would carry her bags, take off her shoes and occasionally, if
she was feeling down, I would clean her room. I didn't do this out of love, no. I was far too small to understand even the notion of love. But what I could understand was inferiority. She was, naturally, astounding. A grade above me and the celebrated captain of the track team. Her hair was never seen loose. While on the field she would put it in a perky bun that was held by a sparkling silver scrunchie. Any other time it was up with on of her seemingly endless supply of hair-ties. Each one chosen to specifically compliment or contrast her blazing pearl eyes and her blonde stricken hair. She used them as crowns, I suppose, and to place herself above the rest of the "queens" she made sure she never wore the same one twice.