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Retina Blue

The first few chapters of the next book I intend to self publish. Any feedback would be amazing…

When an eye shows clarity and light-a connection to the soul is revealed.
When an eye is devoid of the celestial blue print, the soul is lost…
It becomes Retina Blue

Olivia squinted in pain, shards of light blasted directly into her eyes from the window. Her apartment looked bleary. She lifted her head from the floor and peeled some sketches from her face. What happened? She checked the back of her head for blood. Nothing. Her black curled hair was matted but no wound. What was going on? Her head throbbed. Through the blur something darted across the room. What? Olivia froze; across the room stood an androgynous figure, wearing all black, including a face cover. It was moving closer.
Inhaling hard she shook her head. What the..? But? How did it get in?
She lived on the top floor of a secured apartment block close to Kew gardens, there was no way in.
Silence. A dead, black shape in the intruder’s hand caught her attention. ‘It’ intended to kill her.
An eternity of quiet passed before the figure finally spoke. “When you’re good and ready we will talk,” it said. Its voice was deep and confident – mysterious.
“That’s once you stop bloody fidgeting!”
Olivia stared at the individual; it didn’t return the glance, instead its eyes remained fixed on an ornate, shimmering hour glass. She watched silently as it counted something down.
“What have I done? Who are you? Who sent you?”
“Shhh- I’m waiting,” said the figure.
“Waiting for what?”
“Waiting for the precise moment.”

In the exhibition hall of an exclusive art gallery an overweight, fuming, fifty-something art agent paced up and down muttering under his breath. As he loosened his tie his weasley eyes darted about in agitation. Hunching his shoulders he grew increasingly rigid. “That girl’s always late! It’s her last bloody chance!”
He scraped his chubby fingers through his balding hair. “Why the hell I invested so much time and effort in her I don’t bloody know!” he muttered, paused then resumed his stomp.
Throughout his pacing he ranted and tapped his watch. “Complete and utter disrespect! What does she think I am?”
He paused by a white framed window of the gallery and stared out. For a moment he just shook his head and checked his watch. I’m sick of it! If she doesn’t get here soon, I’ll have her bloody killed, that way her work might be worth something!
The agent’s rhythmic pacing became frantic, his face grew increasingly crimson, his mental cogs churned. “This is her last bloody chance!” he spat.

In a luxurious hotel overlooking Bournemouth’s sandy beaches Max laid on his king sized bed smiling at the naked woman before him. He admired her curves as he caressed her tanned, lean body. She smiled a coy smile, removed his hand from her hip and slipped on her black dress. “Time for me to go,” she said.
He sighed, “you don’t really have to go do you?”
“You know I do.”
When she was ready to leave she gazed at him, bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Max gazed at her breasts and then into her eyes.
She shook her head, turned and glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.
He watched the elegant woman leave the room and adjusted himself. He would never see her again. That didn’t bother him.
“Damn I have to call Olivia!”
Max yawned, rolled over and reached for his mobile. He stared at the handset and paused anticipating Olivia’s reaction. He shook his head; she had an exhibition looming and would be at her wits end. Did he really need to deal with all that stress? He should but could he really be bothered? Max put the phone down and laid staring at the ceiling. He huffed; she would be in a state of paranoia and be all needy. What he put himself through just to be her boyfriend was ridiculous. Max smiled wryly, he had his reasons and it was nearly time.

At that precise moment a ragged, jaded, old woman with a plume of matted white hair clung to a trolley as it careered down a steep hill. She laughed hysterically to herself and the three dolls perched on the wire mesh. Each doll was dressed as an angel, each gazed into the distance with their empty, twisted, doll eyes. Onlookers glared at the woman, was she insane?
“You haven’t seem me, you’ll forget… I forgot… So will you.” The old woman didn’t care; the time had come, she had been called. She had a role to play and it was the most important one-this time. She just wished she knew the source of the knowledge. Whenever it was time a letter landed on her doorstep calling her to action. “This is my role- I will find out my history soon, very soon… I will remember, it promised,” she muttered.

Retina Blue

Michelle Dry

Bournemouth, United Kingdom

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Artist's Description

Here are the first few chapters of the next book I intend to self publish: RETINA BLUE.

Artwork Comments

  • David  Parkin
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