Posted in Short Stories

Open Eyes

She was obnoxious in appearance, but her mellow green eyes were quite an indifference to the style in which she dressed. It is often said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. This is an odd statement, as the eyes are merely biological body parts used for viewing the world and finding one’s way around coffee tables and mad, barking dogs. But however odd the statement “the eyes are windows to the soul” may be, I must use it to describe a certain Ms. Annie Cytech.

Ms. Annie Cytech is a young lady from London, England whose age I prefer not to discuss. Two years ago, she received her Diploma Of Law at a certain Harvard University. But instead of opening a nice and quiet Law Office on a certain Diddly Due Lane, she became a detective who sought out crime. I am not quite sure why a lovely, young lady such as Ms. Annie Cytech would choose the harrowing and terrible life of solving crimes, but I do know that this adventure-filled life brings her happiness.

 “It’s the thrill of it all, Eugene. The ability to unravel a mystery and to piece clues together into a search warrant. You know what I mean, right?”

I simply nodded my head when she had asked me this, but now I wish I had said something more.

Annie Cytech is the most beautiful young lady I have ever known. Her long and flowing brown hair which she often put in a braid and her mellow green eyes were like looking at an angel, except I wasn’t blinded but instead illuminated.

She had spoken with me on a number of occasions and most of those times she had been frustrated with me but chose not to show her frustrations. Her soul, like her eyes, were mellow. And that is why I must use the phrase “the eyes are the windows to the soul”. For Ms. Annie Cytechs eyes were a true reflection of her soul. She is the mistress of friendly disaster, which is why I never followed her. Her heart longs for adventure, and understandably, mine does not. So I guess, in one way, we were not meant for each other, but in another way, we were the perfect match. And by “perfect match”, I mean “meant to be hopelessly in love with each other”.

Thee End Of This Story Called “Open Eyes”

(but I believe that the Eye Of A Pine Squirrel is soon to come, but no guarantees)


I'm a writer, filmmaker, and Human. I think...

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