My eyes at his elbow ,uncle walks by my hand , in doctor’s hallway. His face is marble with a cold eye, glaciated by the old age waterfall. Wife’s eyes too are turned glacial, by a winter’s fog, biting the old body.

It is foggy at night in uncle’s eyes. Wife’s eye has fog spreading to the visible world from a cornea with a dark hole in its center. We have to find a suitable cadaver with an eye to fill.

Come after six months for review, says doctor. Of course we will if eyes are alive.


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