The Pale Green Eyes

A woman shows her significant other a room that is filled with odd photographs and reveals a secret of hers.

She opened the door and switched on the light. Immediately, my eyes danced across the photo covered

walls. You could tell the pictures started in the top right corner. They were organized and strategically

placed, smoothly pressed against the surface with obvious intention. As the images continued, the

layout became a layered mess of pinned pictures with bent corners hanging loosely by pieces of tape.

I looked back at her beautiful pale green eyes, masked by tears as she forced a sorrowful smile. She took

my breath away with every glance in her direction. Our eyes panned to the photos on the wall. In that

moment, I realized a familiar detail in each one.

Her eyes.

She was in all of them. In some, she had different hair and was noticeably fuller or skinnier. Each version

of her was even more beautiful than the last, and I couldn’t decide which I preferred. I walked around

the room exploring each photo, noticing odd things here and there. The older photos showed their age

with faded colors, bent corners and coffee stains. Some marked with emotion by what I assume were

tears, others had her dressed in old fashioned clothing. The more recent pictures were clear and had

more modern apparel. I couldn’t make sense of what this meant.

The photos were like and unorganized timeline of decades. What stood out to me more than anything,

was what I love most about her. Not her crooked smile, or the freckles that were scattered across her

nose and cheeks. Not her dimples or the occasional photo exposing the way her nostrils flare from even

the slightest giggle. What stood out to me were those eyes. Those pale green eyes that I fell in love with.

The eyes that made my heart race, the eyes that saw right through me. They were her eyes but in each

photo, the emotion changed ever so slightly.

In the older photos, she was happy and carefree. They were more vibrant and you could see the light in

them. As the photos progressed through time, her eyes grew more pale.

One of the pictures fell to the floor as I brushed against the wall. My eyes fell upon it. It looked older

than the rest. In it, she was with an older woman with gray hair who looked familiar to me. She was

smiling, gazing at my Green-eyed Beauty. I felt happy looking at this photo of her smiling, and her eyes

filled with light. I picked the photo up off the floor and held onto it as I let my eyes dance across the rest

of the pictures scattered across the wall.

I could feel her behind me, her breath tremoring. I turned, a million questions raced through my mind. I

paused for a while, staring into those beautiful eyes. I felt like the air was choking me as I looked at her.

She stood there with a shaking smile, pressed hard to hold back tears.

“Who is this woman?” I finally whispered.

“That’s my daughter.” She said as a single tear rolled down her cheek, and the last bit of light escaped

from her eyes.

Author's Note

Thoughts on ending? Was it obvious?

Reviews

[Relic]

I'm actually a bit confused. Maybe you could explain it.

"she was with an older woman with gray hair who looked familiar to me."

This is the last description before he mentions ...who is this woman?

So how could it be her daughter if the woman mentioned is older?