His skin is the same white as the dying light of a neutron star, though if it were exposed to his own sun it would singe into an embarrassing pink. For this reason he always wears clothes that cover his entire body. A wide brimmed hat sits on top of his weary head, shielding him from the sun's oppressive rays. His eyes, a frozen blue, struggle to read the distant sign as his pupils dance within his head. His hair and neatly trimmed goatee have been speckled with yellow dye, the better to mix in with those considered more normal than himself.
Lately he's been thinking of dropping his own façade of normalness, of using a bright and vibrant blue rather than the dull blonde he has used to disguise himself. He wants to announce his bizarreness to the world in a flash of spectacle and light, but as he silently walks into the small town he keeps his gloved hands in his coat pockets and simply does his best to look onward. After spending several seconds to make out the title of The Fiery Goat, or was it The Feisty Goat, he walks inside. The break from walking will do me well, he thinks as he silently nestles into a seat away from anyone else.
I really like this character description, and I think you make his struggle between his reliance on and distaste towards his "facade of normalness" so relatable. I love your descriptions - "weary head", "frozen blue", "a flash of spectacle". I think you have a very poetic way of writing, but not so much that it seems overdone or cliche. This was very brief, but I feel as if I know the character very well on a very personal level. Love your writing.
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