Coming of Age: "Holden Caulfield"

He’s different now. He’s got this slight hunchback from his constant slouching and he’s taller now, maybe around 6’3 or 6’4. I know he still has his red hunting cap but today he’s wearing the black one. He’s been wearing a new brown jacket with a fur hood. It’s no surprise that he’s got a cigarette in his mouth. He smokes so frequently that the cigarettes have practically become his accessories. His eyes look tired but they are also alert and unnerving. And as usual, he has dark circles under his eyes. You can sense it sometimes when he is paying attention to you because his eyes capture the intensity of the mind behind them.

His hair is darker than it was five years ago and you can still see the gray streaks when he stands in the light. He’s leaning against the lamppost and looking down in the direction of the street but he doesn’t seem to really be seeing anything. His mannerisms are slow and tired. His eyes aren’t darting from place to place anymore but they travel gradually, taking everything in, while his face shows little to no change. His adam’s apple is more pronounced than ever and his skin has become a soft pasty white. His eyebrows are thick, dark, and untamed and they frame his eyes with all their darkness. His pupils are large and his eyes are deep. His nose is more angular and his jawline is pronounced as he smiles crookedly at nothing. As he turns his head, his hair blows slightly in the breeze.

Light is momentarily thrown upon his eyes by the fire of the lamppost and the passing cars, his large dark pupils are revealed as he looks down towards the ground. His black hat frames his face and the strings of his lengthy hair fall onto his forehead. He tilts his head and his eyes darken in the shadow, the angles of his face become more apparent. He chuckles deeply, looks back out at the darkened street and breathes out a gray cloud of smoke. He stays that way for a few moments, staring at something clearly for the first time that night. He straightens his back as the realization that he isn’t alone finally makes its way into his head. He smiles crookedly and his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to speak. His voice is the same sarcastic, disinterested, and yet teasing monotone. “How’ve I been? Terrific. Truly. Honestly. It’s awful how terrific I’ve been. It just really knocks me out.”