Frames

His parents had taken him to get glasses and he wanted the frames that looked as if they had been modified by the sun for a thousand years. Smooth and rough-looking parts, a braid of blonde and brown which had hardened into weightless curves which spun around his ears, gorgeous. His parents were asking him things, like if he liked the pair, could he see better, how impressive the world was now that it had lapsed inflexibly into solids, but he was looking in the mirror and his ears were full of heat. There, wrapped around him, a pretty thing, it seemed to grab him by the head and pull him into a depth, blonde and brown, that implied mineral deposits.