The man is somewhat too tall for his build; were he a few inches shorter he would be all the more handsome for it. It was as if he stopped growing only to be stretched on one of those medieval racks a half-foot more. His face was mostly obscured by a red scraggly beard that clung to his skin like winter ravaged ivy tendrils. He meets my gaze not with the shyness of his father but with a blunt refusal to avert his gaze first. How odd to see those half-familiar features devoid of warmth, like they were stolen.
The man that passes is a clear head higher than most people I would consider tall. Somehow he isn't lanky though, there's bulk on him too; muscles beneath the medical scrubs. I wonder how many jokes and comments about his stature he gets daily, jibes about "the air being thin up there." Though his legs move slowly he is still walking away as fast as any other staff member, each stride carrying him further.