The Blue Eye
The Blue Eye
By M. Lee Goodson
It’s there again tonight. I try to ignore it, but it shines so bright in the darkness of the night as I lie in bed with my head on the pillow trying to fall asleep. The first night it appeared, I thought maybe it was a blue light from one of the many electronic devices in our bedroom, but then I remembered that my husband likes the room completely dark. He even put blackout curtains up so that there wouldn’t be any light coming in from outside through the window. No, there’s no mistaking it. There’s a shining bright blue eye floating right above my dresser.
As I lie in bed tonight, I wonder why just one eye and not two? Why doesn’t the sight frighten me? After all, floating eyes aren’t the normal nighttime fare. As I relax with my head on the pillow, I notice that my nightly visitor is not alone. There are black shadows in the room dancing with the eye. They surround it. Cover it up. The eye disappears and reappears in a different spot like some macabre prop from a magic show. The shadows surround the eye trying to play with it in the darkness. The movement of the shadows remind me of the motion of a lava lamp. The eye and the shadows continue to move around doing their graceful ballet back and forth in the darkness of my bedroom until I fall asleep.
The next morning, when I wake up, I half-expect the eye to still be floating there above my dresser, but it is gone. Every night, this week, as soon as all the lights are off, I roll over on my right side, and I look at my dresser and there it is. Dancing with the dark shadows of the night. Every morning it is gone.
I yearn to know what message the eye wants to give me, but at the same time, I don’t want to know. I’m afraid if I know it’s secret, it won’t appear again. Then again, maybe the eye is appearing because it knows my secret. I wonder if once they find my husband’s body, will the eye stop appearing?
