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3f9c401
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Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetr..
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apple
asymmetry
atlantic
autumn
blind-man
blossom
bones
clock
colors
depression
eyes
god
horror
journey
left-eye
living-things
madness
mirror
nineteen-years-old
power-of-sight
prayer
questions
sacraments
smile
starlight
tree
wind
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Tim Willocks |