Beauty Seeker

“You know what’s really cool about this whole beauty thing?” Jake asked.

“Um, no. I didn’t even know beauty was a thing.”

“Well, it’s not really a thing, it’s a way of looking at the world,” he said reaching for a beer, “You want one?”

“Sure,” he handed me one, “You mean like a worldview?”

We walked outside to sit on the porch, “No, I’m talking about seeing beauty in everything.”

I stared down at my bottle and said, “Beauty’s not in everything.”

“If you don’t look for it,” he put his beer down on the step, “and that is what is so cool about it, you can choose to see it.”

I put the bottle to my lips and took a long drink and swallowed hard, “I don’t know, that sounds like something hippies would believe.”

“I don’t think I’m a hippie, just a beauty seeker.”

I nodded.

“Are you feeling okay?”

I barfed. All over him. “God, I’m sorry. I—”

“It’s fine, maybe I should take you home,” he stood, then helped me up and put my arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, Jake?”


“Find the beauty in this.”

View this story's 2 comments.