She looked at those eyes; dark, oval eyes. They were so poignant, so deep. Every one would comment on her beautiful eyes. Interesting it was, most of them praised the shape while some of them went deep and explained the colour of her eye balls. They recited poems on them but alas! failed to read the story her eyes had been telling! She glanced at them one last time in one of the pieces of those broken glass. One of them had just cut the nerves of her left wrist.
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