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His voice in the most unexpected way.
It was a crisp autumn morning, and we were at the park. The leaves were a vibrant mix of orange, red, and gold, crunching beneath our feet. I watched him as he played alone, his small fingers tracing patterns in the sandbox, his eyes focused and intent. The other parents chatted nearby, casting furtive glances our way, but I had grown used to the whispers and stares.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that I hadn’t seen before. He pointed at a cluster of leaves that were swirling in the wind, caught in a tiny whirlwind of nature’s design.
