Forrest Gump Continued

          Forrest Gump loved his son dearly, and wanted for him to be more educated than he ever could be, but his most important lessons to his son were that of love and compassion, and doing the right things for the right people. He wasn't sure where his son was going as he grew, but he loved every second of his presence which filled him with an indefinably infinite joy that could not be overcome by simple pleasures. He looked at him graciously and with archaic, proud eyes as he jumped on his school bus that morning when the sun gleamed it's bright visage onto those of the living and loving it nourished, and a breeze to please blew past the linens of his simple getup. His son looked back at him with kind eyes, torso half turned towards the contingency of his first school day, and waved a succinctly innocent hand at his father but smiled diligently. Nothing could have been more pure than the passively vehement stares of a father who saw a kindred soul with a life full of freedom and accomplishments ahead of him, or the paralleled stares of a son who had nothing to think of and everything to do. He shouldered his heavy book carrier slightly higher and paddled it to the first empty seat he saw, and there he remained, a slightly dubious young child floating on the the rocky stream toward the first day of his life, looking back at his father who would not stop staring at the face staring back, with the sun shining on his nice complexion and his face gleaming with the affinity for the life he brought to the bus on that day. His son was exuberantly crowded with emotion on his first bus ride, and nothing seemed more important to him than what he could and did imagine. He stared at the other kids and they stared back, but no grumpy third grader who lacked sleep, or no chubby fourth grader whose inordinately profligate mother nurtured with adamantly poor judgment, could seem to understand what such a pure heart would look line in flesh and bone, so they could not understand him. His indifferent, spirited smile turned to the nearby sliding windows and tilted up, and for a pleasant ten minutes he looked at the sky and laid a gratuitous element to his relaxed expression. He would remain there for as long as it would suit him. For all the kids who stared knew, he was sleeping with his eyes open, but for all he knew, in that moment, there was not time and space, but the infinite love from whence he arrived, the same of which his father short speeches seemed to reverberate. He knew not where he was going, or where he could go, or who was there with him or without, he forgot about the bus and the kids and the bus driver that liked to pick fun at them indirectly, so he could get the same good laugh that the kids tried to employ out of childish pity for the man. He forgot and his conscious thoughtlessness made them disappear. Then and there, he was timeless, surrounded by light and surrendering to infinity.