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My Lover's Eyes (200 words)
It was late; we decided to turn in for the night and still weren’t getting on.
I was dependant on my wife; she provided the income we survived upon.
We had discussed splitting up, but I really couldn’t agree with it.
To look into my wife’s eyes was pure bliss; I couldn’t imagine a life without them — they made me feel alive; but she felt differently now: I don’t know why.
She fell asleep immediately: I just lay there thinking about her and the way she used to look at me.
Her eyes were the foundation of my life; everything that made me feel real; every morning I turned over I looked into those eyes — it made me want to get up and live.
But she’d said she was leaving and in this night-time I made a decision; the way she looked at me would remain even after she’d gone.
When I was sure she was sound asleep, and I couldn’t help myself, I took the paper knife from the bureau in our room and cut those beautiful eyes from her head; if she had to go she could, but her eyes would remain with me. It was my life.
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criticism is the engine beneath the hood of perfection
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Stuff I've posted in the past is still worthy of being critiqued. Please check it out and have your say. I will return the favour.
Last edited by Richie.S : 09-04-2007 at 06:19 PM.
Reason: advice
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