The Eyes Upon Meby JP Garwoodall the amber glow in the eyes around me, I credit myself for the restraint exhibited in not gauging forth fingers in the vanguard. Penetrating my shield with stares as razor sharp as any blade you may have raked a poor debutante's neck with, the eyes grow nearer to my own then shoot away to gleaming faints like those of a cat caught in a neighborhood game of flashlight tag. For a moment I cannot take the gaze and shrink back within myself. Then in a burst of confidence usually associated with massive liquor consumption, I fire back a stare of my own. The eyes upon me don't blink, they refuse to. Instead, they grow more red, and liquid. I fear all that is mine can be seen by these hideous watchers. I scream any obscenity that would make a nun shit and the eyes remain fixed. They cannot hear me, they merely see! Disguises and table manners are easy Listen to my voice one and all! |
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