50 Word Stories: Shattered Unseen We both had terrible eyesight; it was the only way we could stand each other. So when she smashed my glasses in a fit of hormonal rage, I wasn’t that bothered. When she ran away and fell over our garden wall, I was less so. She’d smashed the wrong ones.
In the middle of the night, I wake up screaming. I don't remember the why, how or when of my terrors just those terrible, haunted eyes. They flick open like Venetian blinds, quick and bright, then stare into my soul. I hate them. I really do. They're just like mine.
￼ My eyes are my giveaway. They abandon me when I need them most, look away when I wish to gaze, hide behind black plastic and still fail to respond. My eyes are my bane, my downfall, my shame. They weep when I would wish them not, flicker when I would wish to stare at […]
￼ Sunrise and sunset Like candles in a window Your eyes meeting mine The light at the end of time For us it burns eternal
She flashed one of those come hither looks only girls of a certain allure managed. Without getting out of her chair or even lowering her glass, she'd captured my attention completely. A flash of two green, bejewelled eyes and she thought me hers. Yes, I was enamoured, but never stupid.
￼ Ebony Deepest night Soul swallowing eyes Desperation's one blink away Always
Tanzanite Her eyes Made for movies They pierced the world Immortal
￼ Now, you may think me a competent person… What do you mean, you don’t? Goddamn! Anyhow, I have an inbuilt mechanism that makes me rather robotic. I can and prefer to do things a set way — it’s just the way I am. As luck would have it, most things I do, I usually […]
“Somewhere between heaven and a heart, I found my view. When you closed your eyes, I lost it. But not for long. Never for long.”