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She taught him other things too. In fact, if i am to remain true to the story in its telling, i would have to say at this point that she didn't realise she taught him anything, at least not until he told her she had.Lesson learnt, conferred by an oblivious tutor, on an all too willing pupil. It came gradually, in increments, as sure as tick follows tock follows ticktock.

He talked a lot about her eyes. Well, he didn't really talk, he showed me things. Actual speech, as you would recognise it, was clipped and jumbled, but his eyes imparted a wisdom that i will take to my grave. Eyes that questioned existence, past, present, future. I've never seen dead eyes look so alive. So he would talk, and stare.Why he chose me out of the myriad of humans he'd encountered is a murder mystery. Evidently i was to become the pupil, he the teacher.

Her eyes. Trusting. Open. Honest. Old. Young. Singing. Not words i'd use myself to describe a woman's eyes. When i said this to him he laughed, replying that i had not met this woman and had the pleasure, nay, honour of looking into aforementioned eyes. How could i know i would not use the same words as he? He was quite animated at this point. The truth was in her eyes, the truth was in her eyes, the truth was in her eyes. A mantra, he repeated it over and over, i daren't interrupt him. He slowed, and apologised. What he said next made me start. She was born when the earth wasborn, she is pure love. A fire burns in her that captivates all around her, yet it can destroy as easily as it can delight. Beautiful, terrible. Honest, unyielding. A life giver. A life taker awayer. Vengeance of God. Pausing, he laughed. He laughed rarely. "The kind of eyes you fall completely in love with at a glance, you know?" I think he felt he'd gone too far somehow, and wanted to put me at ease. I told him i'd never seen eyes like that. He sighed, a patient sigh. "You will." he said.

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