You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, that day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though youโd wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. Theyโre pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
Lucy ChristopherYou smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
Lucy ChristopherYou looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
Lucy ChristopherThis be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
Lucy ChristopherYou told me once of the plants that lie dormant through the drought, that wait, half-dead, deep in the earth. The plants that wait for the rain. You said they'd wait for years, if they had to; that they'd almost kill themselves before they grew again. But as soon as those first drops of water fall, those plants begin to stretch and spread their roots. They travel up through the soil and sand to reach the surface. There's a chance for them again.
Lucy Christopher