Vulnerability and a Clearer View

The scent of cinnamon and something vaguely floral hung in the air of Penny’s house, a comforting aroma that was a stark contrast to the nervous thrumming in my chest. We were supposed to be dissecting *The Great Gatsby*, but so far, my focus had been less on Gatsby’s green light and more on the way Penny’s nose crinkled when she concentrated, or the way her ponytail swung when she gestured emphatically. Her living room was cozy, filled with mismatched throw pillows and stacks of books that hinted at a life as vibrant as her smile.

“So, for the symbolism of the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg,” Penny said, tapping her pencil against the open book, her brow furrowed in thought, “I was thinking it represents the loss of spiritual values, you know? Like, God is watching, but nobody’s paying attention.”

I nodded, trying to appear as engaged as I was. “Yeah, that makes sense. It’s like… the world’s gone blind to the important stuff.” My voice sounded a little too high, a little too eager. I cleared my throat. “Or maybe it’s just a giant, creepy billboard that’s supposed to make you feel bad.”