Friday, October 06, 2006
Gray Eyes



I have to write something. Their existence and power must be documented for posterity. For the children.

She had gray eyes. Who has gray eyes? Slate snow silver plains like you've never seen. Martian maybe. Thinking back, all I really remember is the color. Her eyes could have spanned from her widows peak to her cleft chin, but I don't recall enough to say otherwise. My entire thought process, every gray cell I could muster, was focused on those carbon down irises.

"Paper or plastic?" she asked. My response was delayed, simple, and all I had to say.

"Whoa, you have beautiful eyes." I was told once by a female friend accustomed to men celebrating her figure with whistles and claps that complimenting a woman's appearance is not necessarily rude or disrespectful if done properly. This was not one of those ways.

"I mean, wow, like, are they real?" Her hand snapped up, closing the the top button of her uniform. Her head titled to the side and she dropped her jaw in awe of my seemingly piggish audacity.

"No, no! I mean the color of your eyes! Really, they're just so...gray." She straightened her soldiers and breathed a loud huff of air through her nose.

"Yes, they're my real eyes," she hissed.

"They're awesome, just awesome," I responded, not picking up on her irritation. Breaking my stare, I began to feel uncomfortable at how creepy I was becoming. I began fumbling through my wallet. "Umm...how much?"

"That'll be $6.97." She passed me my purchases in a plastic bag: Astronomer's Weekly and a Milky Way. As I handed her the money I tried not to look, but was caught again by the beauty of those amazing moon colored spheres. I could take no more.

I ran: straight out of the store and into my car, driving as fast as I could to the hills at the east edge of town. When I reached the cliff, I jumped out of the car without bothering to turn off the engine. Standing on the mouth of the fall, looking down at the city, I screamed. I yelled and I hollered. I lost my voice. My emotions are under my control, I thought, no woman can take power over me. I screamed some more. It was all I could do.

posted by ezruh sellof at 1:47 AM 0 comments
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