The Eyes of his Soul

712 words on my revision today.

Sometimes it’s almost eerie the way words I had no intention of writing spill onto the page, as if created by someone else whispering them in my ear. I call that person the ‘writer,’ the Muse, or he-who-has-yet-to-be-named.

He is the one that knows the story better than I do.

That happened today when I saw these words appear on my screen:

Then she dreams and sees the world through his eyes, through the eyes of his soul.

Something tells me this will be very important later.

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