Speaks of light; each unique from the rest. My father’s eyes a medium blue, like the ocean resting and reserved. My sister, a replica of my mother, has eyes the color of a summer day’s sky. I can look deep into their eyes and feel a connection of care and concern.

My eyes glisten with their soft blue, but differ with slight specks of the shimmering sun. The thin wispy eyelashes flicker and flutter, eventually coming to a close and covering up the glow. I block out the cold. I block out life’s misery. I block out the gloominess: the loss of a loved one. But as soon as the lashes rise, i can see the world and beyond. My eyes set me apart from others. The few specks of golden light, each unique from the rest.