Her eyes are blue, the color of the sea.
I could get lost in them.
Swirling in the vortex, I grasp desperately for something to cling to.
While my mouth opens and closes, nothing comes out.
Not a squeak. Not a sound.
Perfect spheres, which embody everything I love about this world.
They flitter and dart, moving quickly, encapsulating me.
At this moment, right here, I am happy.
And then she rips the ticket out of the book, and hands it to me.
Two-hundred bucks for speeding in a construction zone.
What a witch.