A Literary Retreat: King and O' Connor on Sin, Redemption, & Mercy
Black eyes. Technically brown, but any border of iris is lost in their depths. Not just windows to her soul, but to their observer, they seemed to also be a mirror into his own soul. Eyes whose near blackness had the same effect as the nun's black habit, always turning my thoughts to God. In the daylight, those turned thoughts were fresh, hopeful and exciting: a new life, redemption, belief sparkled within delicate almond-frames. Sharp wit and wisdom beyond years. But then there was the night, as the blackness deepened around, so it did in those eyes. Still sparkling, but now with a depth of experience and knowledge. She was close to God, in love and hope, but that proximity also opened her up to the spiritual world. The reality of battles, forces, of angels and demons. Sure, knowing, and peaceful, relying on the name of Jesus and to use the evangelical vernacul...