brown eyed girl

You know puppy dog eyes? The real kind, on a real puppy, might persuade you to bring him a treat or not to scold him after you find him chewing on the leg of your favorite chair. Those eyes on a little girl could convince you that maybe she really does need that doll from the toy store.

They’re nothing compared to mine.

Once you begin to stare, they’ve ensnared you. My head’s bowed ever so slightly as I look at you from the tops of my brown eyes. Somehow, they grow a little larger, more deep chocolate brown now than white, a few tears beginning to form in the corners. The longer you gaze and the more pity you feel, the more you’re mine.

I can convince you to be the one to fetch me a glass of water. If the remote’s not nearby when I want to change the channel, I can force you to be the one to locate it and hand it over to me.

But it’s not just that.

I can make you do anything.

And you know what?

You’ve been looking the whole time I’ve been talking.

You’d better hope I want you to continue breathing.

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