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CHAPTER ONE - SUNRISES AND POETRY
Jin is often amazed by the wonders of life as many are: seeing the sky bleed from bright oranges and pinks into a baby blue, hearing the bell chime of a child's laughter, and seeing gold shine through a lover's eyes. He was appreciative of the things placed before him, but was born with the curiosity and mischief that came with loving the chase of one's dreams. He lived how he wanted to, brought himself up by his own coattails and dusted himself off because no one else was to do it for him, and enjoyed being happy. Jin was simple and uncomplicated, restless and demure. He tired of things as easily as he appreciated them. He learned that beauty was fleeting. It came and went, and rarely did it ever stay. Beauty is earned.
He lives by remembering this; that beauty required a splurge of saturated brilliance and free spirit; that it can live in everything if you look hard enough. His carefully opinionated way of living much to often caused his attention to begin to drift from one life-given thing to another, causing his spirit to tire in ways he was sure weren't normal for the typical individual. Too many things too appreciate in this minuscule world he built for himself. Too many things to loathe as well.
But despite all the characteristics he convinced himself he had, despite his wandering and restless spirit that fluttered from place to place, he couldn't tire of her. He couldn't distract himself from her obnoxious laugh or her heartbeat when she fell asleep or her voice in the mornings. He couldn't loathe her smooth skin or dare to abhor the curls that were placed so imperfectly atop her head. Instead of following the standards Jin had set in his mind, that beauty stayed. And stayed. And stayed.
No matter what he did. No matter what God himself did.
He remembered thinking the day was despicably beautiful. The sun had just began to rise that freshly born Wednesday morning, and the pure unfiltered beauty that lived between the clouds was almost too much for him to handle. He can only encounter so much glory at once. He was simply enduring his matutinal walk alongside surfside beach, hearing the waves softly crash against his bare feet, awaiting the heightened warmth of a fully risen sun. It was just shy of 8 a.m, a time where this beach was usually completely vacant and gracefully left him at his lonesome. And he was, for a short while, before he noticed a woman sitting cross-legged in the sand a few yards before him.
She wasn't too close to the water - if she stretched her legs out some her toes would kiss the foam of a wave - and she looked peaceful. As Jin squinted, he noticed that she was writing. Or doodling, perhaps, he just saw a pen move against paper and assumed the former. She had mahogany skin and her hair was big and unruly - which didn't strike him as abnormal, Miami had skin tones of nearly every shade and hair of nearly every texture. From where he stood, Jin could see that her features were soft. She was pretty, he decides, before returning his attention to himself and putting an end to his awkward observance of the writing woman. As he stood in silence, he could see the sun peaking more and more above the clouds, slowly appointing the water a coruscant glow, and a golden gleam across the morning sky. This signified the end of a morning in solitude and the beginning of a day in an uncured and tiring rush, pushing one ever deeper into a mentally overwhelmed hole or, for those most fortunate, into opportunity that blossoms with each passing moment.
