Her breathing was shallow, quick, and dry.
The eyes that were following me.
Fumbling in the right side pocket
the man with the head like the block of bare granite.
I almost drown in those eyes.
The minutes shifted and wavered down around us.
Oh the awful responsibility of time.
Piercing blue, yet entrancing those eyes were.
Smoking automatic.
Time has stopped.
The eyes are gone.
1 comment:
Has time stopped for the eyes? Did the narrator go away or the eyes? Spooky. Just in time for Halloween. - elmeer
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