The Louse

I gaze silently about the room,
my mind vacant of any intelligent thought.
This lecture is a dry thing.
My eyes wander, searching for a bit of life
amidst the lifeless room.
They stop on the girl before me.
I see something small—tiny—perked in her hair:

A louse.

I lean in closer.
Having seen one, more come into view.
Their light color contrasts perfectly her red tresses.
Each louse present is poised alone,
not crowded,
but spread evenly over the crown of her head—
like tiny pearls poised thoughtfully
in the up-do of a hopeful bride.
The lice aren’t remaining still however.
They’re dancing in the girl’s hair,
moving nimbly throughout her wild mane
seemingly aimless in direction
but performing the steps wonderfully—
catching beams of light, like diamonds
sparkling for the world to see.
Each one adds vigor and life
to her locks, dressing up her hair
so it isn’t quite so very drab.

I look back around me at the hollow, motionless students
and smile.
Life was what I was looking for a minute ago.