Jessica Swearingen

The Black Book

Jeff opened the door to find Miranda standing there. Her face was blotchy and wet with tears and snot. She looked like a child again; his little girl who had fallen and scraped her knee. She did not move or look at his face. He did not need to see her eyes. He knew them too well. Emerald green with a gold ring at their center. Even when she cried, they were still beautiful, an exact replica of her mother’s eyes. Just a quick glance at them and he would be hooked again. He was relieved that she was looking down, it made closing the door easier.