jīm

Everyone in the class liked Jim. It’s hard to explain why, but there was something special about him that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on. His appearance was average in just about every way except maybe the sparkle in his big brown eyes, the hint of a smile that would appear at the slightest provocation, and the air of quiet confidence he projected by his body language. He was older than the rest of us by two or three years – maybe more. He already had a wife who was from Iran, Lila, and a little girl who we had all gotten to know, Sandy.