I read people’s souls. It’s a weird thing to say really. It’s like saying I can see ghosts or I can fly, or I can time travel in the future. But mine is to read people’s soul. Not all the people I meet. Just a few actually, those that interests me, since it’s a bit taxing really. It’s a lot different from reading or feeling someone’s energy as most people do. You have to go deeper than their energy when reading people’s soul, that’s why it’s tiring. In the end, you’ll be amazed by what you can discover. There are those who seem meek but are really not. There are those who seem harsh, cold, and arrogant but have a really warm soul. There are those who seem humble but could make your skin crawl whenever you touch their souls. There are those that don’t seem to care, but they really do. There are those who do hurtful things because they’re trying to numb their own pain and hurt inside. There’s a popular person that has a very gentle and down to earth soul, and an ordinary one that has a soul as proud as the sky. Rare are the few people I meet that smiles at your face and tell you things about themselves and mean it as it is. Most hide beneath their facade they built for the world to see, to admire, or maybe to fear.
I met a man in my dream who could read a person’s soul too. He’s by far my favorite one, his soul feels like a warm blanket on a winter night. He smells like an earthen wood from a fire chamber, and his warmth feels like your lost childhood home in maybe some past happy life. I asked him one time what was my soul like. And he said mine is like a block of ice, too cold to touch, and as white as the sky at the first snow fall. White and cold. As beautiful and gentle as a snowflake, but as deadly as the winter.