Epiphany Defunct

I call it the genius gene. Attributed to my father’s blood line, I daringly apply it to myself and all of my offspring. Perhaps of some distant descent, a pinpointed moment in human kind’s evolutionary history. I can imagine that special moment, that flash of brilliance that traveled for hundreds of thousands of years, which led to my father, to me, to my child. I watched my son in awe. His pupils were dilated, jaw slightly dropped in a frozen state of epiphany. The type of expression only visible when some unforeseen knowledge has penetrated one’s soul. A wisdom that changes you forever. I imagined that genius gene unraveling inside of this boy like a type of intellectual puberty, changing him forever. He was 4 years old, barely able to contain himself in any circumstance, bursting with pointless energy. A constant state of noise and meaningless movement. And yet, there he sat. Still. Quiet. An expression of wise maturity, unusual for such a young, inexperienced being. One might expect the expression plastered upon a man lost during mid-life, finally being struck with meaning all at once by the universal creator. And there it was, on my boy. I watched with pride. It begins. The room was quiet and still as time is (to one who is truly objective). He hadn’t moved beyond what each slow breath did to his young frame. He hadn’t blinked. I leaned in, afraid of disturbing his epiphany, but too excited to contain myself. This moment carried the weight of eternity. How wondrous it was to imagine that weight on this fragile, still-growing mind. What a work of art. I whispered in childlike anticipation.
“Josiah … what are you thinking about?”
He whispered back without glancing over at me, still frozen in his state.


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