Literature
Secretive Eyes (2)
I began to get to the more rural parts of the city, my mother’s house being an hour walk away. After climbing a hill, my mother’s house delicately perched on top, as she always loved heights, I went inside, calling out to my mother.
“Hey, Mom,” I shouted as I took my boots off,
“Amiee, come here.” I rushed down the hallway to her sitting room, where she had her laptop on her lap. She turned it towards me, there, on the screen, was a picture of the man with the chocolate eyes.
“Who’s he?” I asked.
“A purist.”
My eyes filled with fear as I looke