I meet her two years before i walked under orange moonlight. Her laugh was like the sweep of a swallow, one low flash over water and it was gone. But her large dark eyes held a hidden bitterness. Her pupils were like clear, cold, deep wells... She could fill my shallow heart. She worked were a few went voluntarily. Back then, I never imagined she would be my first connection to the world. Looking back now I realize, although filthy, the world still have color if her eyes were there to see it... It would still carry an interest that would allow me to live... Buffeted by wind, sea, and sand, I staggered toward her... I had to tell her that, finally, I understood the meaning in her eyes.
