"I think I see it," he said.
She didn't get defensive. She just pointed at the horizon, where the first stars were pricking holes in the darkening dome. irisintheesky
"See that?" she said. "Right there. The space between the clouds where the light gets through. That's me. Not the whole sky. Just the part that's looking back." "I think I see it," he said
She was never quite sure if her mother had named her after the flower or the eye. "Both," her mother would say, touching the space between her own brows. "The iris is the bridge. Color between the storms." "See that
And then it would happen: a slit of cerulean between bruised thunderheads. A single feather of cloud shaped like a question mark. The way the sunset bled orange into lavender as if someone had dropped a watercolor brush mid-stroke.