The other children said he had crazy eyes & made fun of how his mother dressed him & refused to understand why he liked strange colors & would not play with his toys. They misread his language & thought he conjured demons in the quiet glade where no birds sang. But the boy only shrugged & smiled quietly to himself at their puzzles. You see, he knew the gift of imperfection, its fierce magic & how to catch beauty & turn bad luck into an omen. They could not get used to the voices he heard, & were scared of the way his hands made music from plain air.They could only write "I'm sorry" so many times before it no longer sound like words.