All alike in uniform and status.
A blue-eyed contemplative boy, an elegant dark-haired girl, and a grass-stained sinewy boy.
All sit on the bus, the first gazing through the window, the second gazing in the mirror, the third gazing at the girl.
Through the window is seen a row of pines, each in uniform Christmas tree shapes and equal distance apart.
The wind blows one tree who is alive and growing and green. So is the next.
The face in the mirror never changes, the expression of the girl never flickers, the confidence never fails.
All the observer sees is three black-clothed youths.
But a word does not pass between them.
Then the tree, alive growing green, morphs, becomes changed, sticks out.
What has changed?
It realized it was different and it became so.
Wind blows from the tree, shaking everything in its path.
Hair is drawn toward the window as if the wind were calling it longingly.
One teen’s hair blows the other way, as if repulsed by the wind.
Which teenager is not like the others?
The wind stops.