He may be old, but he is the most handsomest man ever. Mid-sixties maybe. His eyes are blue. Pale blue but circled by dark blue. His hair is gray, but was once brown. His skin is wrinkled and worn but was once smooth. His face is small and heart-shaped. I can't stop staring at him. I imagine him as a young boy, entering the military in a green suit. The way he smiled for his picture. How he hugged his crying mother goodbye. Smoked a cigarette as he served for his country. Overcome the nightmares he's seen and heard while protecting America. He was handsome then and he is handsome now. He holds the door open with a smile and I thank him for the dinner that he bought for his wife, my parents, and me.