![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
For one long and terrible second yesterday, I could not remember Jeanette's eyes. What color they were. Not at all.
I remembered, then, and the rush of memory was like the breath a diver takes after surfacing. Blue, blue and bright and sharp, like the last clear sky before the first frost.
I have to write it down. Oh, god, I have to write everything down.
(all of these moments will be lost in time like tears in rain)
I remembered, then, and the rush of memory was like the breath a diver takes after surfacing. Blue, blue and bright and sharp, like the last clear sky before the first frost.
I have to write it down. Oh, god, I have to write everything down.
(all of these moments will be lost in time like tears in rain)
