He looks into the mirror again. He scans every change minutely. He looks at the white strands of his hairs, loosened skin and his eyes. The color of his eyes was changing continuously over past years. It had changed from brown to a light blue color : that of the sky.
Looking himself at so close was surreal. Like he met somebody else in the mirror. Somebody who has faced depression to the extent of killing himself in his every thought. That somebody in the mirror cherished the thought of suicide as if it was the only decision one could take freely for one's life.
But he did not die. Death is not always an easy choice.
January has passed away. Giving way to a hope that new colors will arrive soon and paint our blank eyes. The color of his eyes are changing constantly. His biggest fear now is Death. Which would rather come slowly, making him realize the different shades of the color, life is.
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