Mouches Volantes

        I remember when she told me what it was called – those floaters you see when blinking. Mouches Volantes. Some French term that sounded so beautiful, at least when she spoke.

            I remember reading her a poem I wrote about how I saw her face on each squiggly floater, “A shadow on my retina/ a bright spot on my heart.” The only difference being that the next time I blinked, she was gone. I never liked French anyway.

~~Story by Ian Russell