This is the prologue to my distopian novel Bleeding Gray. What do you think? I’ve heard that eyes are the windows of a soul. It’s an old adage, ancient really, but I believe it is true. If you look hard enough, you might find a spark in that window, a light with which one’s true spirit lives. This light burns bright in the eyes of a curious child, but between childhood and becoming a young adult it changes, slowly withdrawing until there is no spirit left. I try to hold on to that light even
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