The Smile by Roy Neyman


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SUMMARY: A passing reflection.

I am gifted with her smile. It's small aspect among the many memories of my life blooms large whenever I chance upon it. The image is like yesterday, though not one of a face. The corners of her eyes must have crinkled upwards. Her dimples, if she had them, must have deepened in her broadening countenance. Lips must have parted to show their slender crescent of white teeth.

But I couldn't recall for you a single detail except the way it made me feel. As our eyes met for that fleeting eternity, it was as if some old friend from ages past recognized me across a room that was light years across, greeting me with the shared experience of some past life together. It would not have had to be one of joy, for common strife can bring our spirits together just the same. What was important was that we both somehow acknowledged the kindred nature that brings us together, binds us as beings that are one with the source of all that exists.

Did I do the same for her? I can only trust that the surge in my heart made it up and out through my own face to span the gap between us, reaching out to hold that passing stranger's spirit warm in the embrace of a deeply trusted friend. Even now, though my conscious self gets in the way, I feel as though my soul and hers are having a friendly chat as we drift upon the cosmic currents of eternity.