They say the eye is the window to the soul and as I stare at the lidless empty socket under the bridge, I wonder how far I would have to gaze to find its soul.
“It’s just an illusion,” my friend said, when I mentioned it to him. “Don’t be silly.”
Still, the more I gaze at it, the more the details come together and I see the bridge staring back at me. I almost wish it would blink, yet I hope it never does.