Look at my eyes.

NEWYORKER: Hellhole

Each time Clarisse came around to fill my glass, I kept my eyes on my plate, unable to look at her.

NEWYORKER: Sweetheart Sorrow

Now in the mornings I rose with a kind of zest and went directly to the hall mirror, where even my tumbled hair gave me a look of casual confidence, and the shadowy folds under my eyes spoke of someone in the habit of facing and overcoming obstacles.

NEWYORKER: Miracle Polish

She told me to close my eyes and not to look until she told me to open them.

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Maybe my thousand eyes are what tell me to look down.

NEWYORKER: Ask Me If I Care

My loving uncle was diagnosed with dengue fever and I will never forget the look of pain in his eyes.

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