Eyes Like Sapphire

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photo courtesy of fanpop.com

Death does not haunt me. I see it every day in my line of work. You get use to the inhumanity of man after a while. An anonymous call brought us to the back alley.

She lay, naked and exposed, off the path of the bottle strewn lane. Her exquisite porcelain skin glistened with morning dew and a manicured hand rested against the splay of her black, silken hair.

The color of her open eyes, the way they spoke to me is what I remember most. The blue was sapphire, piercing, and cold. They haunt me still.

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#16 The prompt this week links these together:     …the blue was sapphire…

 

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