Through his Eyes

An extract, possibly going to be part of something else.

I see him looking at me through the eyes of my grandfather. Somehow, I know that he already understands much of what I want to tell him, even the darkest parts. Even the most complicated and complex of parts. 

When I lost my grandfather, my world turned upside down.

It's like I'd lost my own reflection.

I didn't know who I was anymore,

No-one could see me

how was I going to see myself?

I used to look for that reflection in the eyes of others

I used to search in them for me

in dark eyes

liquid eyres

sunken eyes

Finally they weight of seeking became too heavy to bear

and my eyes drew down to the ground.

They became fixed on one spot.

On the brightest of days I'd catch a glimpse in the face of a stranger. 

A crease of a lip or a twinkle of the eye, something that could turn my frown upside down just for a brief, fleeing moment before the scaffolds in-between my eyelids collapsed once again. 

Fixed, they would be. You can notice the tiniest notions of grass growing if you stare in the same place for long enough. 

It was a warm evening in Spring, I had just come in from a brisk walk through the farmer's fields. The sun was lowering and the breeze was beginning to prod at my skin. I pulled a chair up to the dining room table and noticed the sound of the clock ticking gently in between the quiet. How I loved to listen to the soft, gentle tick, tock of old, wise clocks. A waft of mystic; books cropped out from behind the dusty bookcase tucked behind the dark, brown leather chair. Grandad's chair.

11.59. Less than 60 seconds and I'm on.

"Your eyes", he said.

"My eyes?" I put my tea down and looked closely into my webcam. Had the hay fever got to them again?

"What's wrong with my eyes"

"They used to be so open and bright. What happened to them?"

Reviews

[barleygirl]

You are a top-notch prose writer. Even tho this is "only" a snippet, it's fully engaging. Lots of writers post snippets & I think lots of readers only have time for a snippet. The longer stories don't get read that much. It's a huge talent to be able to pour so much into such a short piece. I love the opening & how it starts with seeing grandfather's eyes in someone else's eyes. Very arresting opening. Then, quite frankly, I had just about had enuf of this whole "searching" diatribe, since I'd rather a story have forward movement, rather than to sit still too long in one place doing the big philosophical ponder. Just as I was feeling a little restless with the philosophical bent, you dive into an even fuller & richer storyline that's exactly what a reader wants to pull him/her in. It doesn't really matter that this isn't a story with a recognizable plot & meaning. Sometimes we just want to be carried away for a brief break among our busy days . . . this is the kind of snippet that does that (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Laura Kate]

Thank you for such a thoughtful, constructive and generous review, Margie. I really value your feedback. Reading through again, I completely feel the sense of restlessness - however, I do spend far too long sitting still in philosophical ponder as a general rule ... ! Thanks a million. Laura.