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Her eyes were like a hawk's. Or, they used to be. Now Delilah lay there, blind and grasping. Always grasping. Searching for a hand to hold as she went around.
Sometimes she felt around when she thought no one was looking. She touched her own face, massaging her eyes as if doing so would restore the vision she so sorely missed. Her sight had been everything to her. And now she had nothing left.