I looked into her faded blue eyes and recoiled almost physically. I had to brace myself. Their depths were indescribable: beyond compare. In her eyes were other worlds and other times. The past was still alive in her! I could see it! In those pale blue irises were births, deaths, and loves; successes and failures; tragedies and comedies; and, yes, hates. I had never seen anything like it, and in a way, I hoped I never would again. It was a kind of nakedness I could not yet understand. The nakedness of age.
