Lost in thoughts that stretched back in time, his eyes seemed glazed over.
Because they were looking in more than out.
Flipping through picture book memories that ran like old reels in silent films.
And they held his youth and his hopes.
They held them up so he could see them again.
They waved them high in the recesses of his mind so that the fragrance of them would waft in his direction.
And the vibrations from his thoughts permeated the layers of tangibility and created a gentle gust of wind.
A breeze that brushed over him.
A soothing nudge that brought him back from the past.