He turned back to Hal, whose eyes were open and seemed brighter and bluer than they had ever looked before. Ennis smiled at him. “Hal, yer eyes are blue like Jack’s,” he said. “I love blue eyes.”
“Yer eyes are brown,” whispered Hal. “I had a friend who had brown eyes.”
When I read this tonight, just as I read it, there was an amazing rainstorm in New York, lightning and thunder. And then it cleared, just as Hal died.
Beautiful story, Leslie.