Thursday, August 5, 2010
There were very few similarities between Elise's mother Wilhelmina and her aunt Verity; except for eyes so green they glowed. Even in black and white photos their eyes were remarkably green. Like the water at high-tide at the end of the pier. In both sisters these eyes could be adjusted to snaky squinting or flicked up at the corners to convey a sense on mischief. In both sisters it was the eyes that narrowed and widened, but never in a way to give the slightest insight, never to let anyone in. And perhaps that was the most similar thing about them. They were inscrutable – to one another and the world. Looking at her own eyes in the mirror Elise wondered where she got her give-away eyes - was it the lids that betrayed her every feeling? Was it the angle of the lashes? The flecks of copper and gold that mixed themselves into the green?