Henry

Henry was all angles. From his bony elbows and knees to the sharp angle of his chin. Tall, was what people called him when they were being polite. Fire red hair stood up all over his head in cowlicks and swirls, his bangs falling into his bright blue eyes. His deep quiet voice seemed to rumble up from the earth, or from the general vicinity of his size 18 shoes.

His movements were always slow and studied, as if he were afraid he would break something. And he felt awkward, as if he never quite fit.

Always out of place.