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  • Writer's pictureHuda Fatima

Memory


His emerald green eyes stared deep into mine. Chills ran down my spine with every blink of his eyes. Thick, fibrous eyelashes accentuated the almond shape of his eyes. Eyes I will never forget. Eyes embedded deep into my soul. Eyes that I saw close for the last time as his last breath hissed out of his limp, already decaying body. Eyes that haunt me down in my sleep even now, seventeen long, agonising years later. Eyes that will haunt me to my grave. Eyes that will haunt me in my grave. Eyes, his eyes, a memory I will not forget.


His lean, veiny hands enclosed mine. So smooth, so creaseless, they could've been a newborn baby's. Sometimes, in the dead of the night, I can still feel the warmth of his hand fit into mine, like a key which fits into its lock. Maybe God used his hand as a template while making mine, or mine as a template for making his. However way it was, so flawless were his hands, I will never forget.


 

I was going through past paper questions for my english language exam tomorrow and saw the question: "describe a memorable person" and thought hmm this has potential to be something and ta-da! here we are. it's kinda short (i got bored after 2 paragraphs)

ENjoy!

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