Autism

As I stare into his big wondering eyes, the summer sunshine twinkles in the caramel color and swirls like the breeze through my hair.

He chatters continuously about his favorite toy car: its shiny red color makes it the coolest thing ever, albeit it missing one wheel.

Driving the plastic vehicle up and down my forearm as I lie in the grass that thickly consumes his backyard, I observe this child that I love so dearly.

Only four years have his eyes been open, and yet I can see galaxies far away spinning into forever. His laughter fills my ears and reverberates against the walls of my mind.

Suddenly, the laughter halts as if the volume is turned off. Staring into surroundings far beyond his safe haven, I watch carefully and can hear my own heart sobbing. ‘Bring him back to me!’ I cry inside, waiting hopefully for the mind of this small child to return once again.

As quickly as he had gone, Shane was safe and sound within the confines of the wooden fence that separates the lawns.

Treading timidly, my heart quietly tries to mend itself once more, helped by the tinkling laughter and chatter of the innocent.