Eyes have a way of communicating more effectively than a brain or mouth could ever dream of. The voice of an iris is clear and with every lash of an eye, the truth can be whipped into submission.
Miranda Di Ravelo was such a woman. A confident woman, blonde, lean lips that always seemed to pull up at the corners with the prospect of a shadow smile. Some people insisted it was her gypsy background while others thought it was her being born out of wedlock. Maybe it was just the fact that she was a witch.
Her creamy olive eyes scanned from face to face, looking at different people who were within stone’s reach. She chanced upon the chancellor’s eyes and saw the memory of their encounter in those pupils. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, much as it had done when her nails had dug into his chest on that night. Those wounds must still be tender and other parts had to remember that night as well. Quite the lover although paling in comparison to the sheriff’s wife.
When Miranda met her eyes, the woman’s nostrils flared much like they did every time she came over to “help her knit”. Eight months and a quilt and a half later, it was a testament to how blind men could be to the needs of a woman or how she could endure the waves of misogyny. It was always such a delight to make her climax.
The sheriff next to her looked on with hate in his eyes. Maybe he’d found out she had shown his wife what pleasure really felt like or maybe it was that she would no longer be able to make his moonshine. And hell, it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to teach him. It’s just that he was quite the village idiot and Miranda had better luck teaching a duck how to curtsy than teaching the sheriff how to do anything.
There they were, among the crowd that had stopped long enough to enjoy the show. It took three attempts to snap her out of her reverie.
“Do you have any final words?” the judge asked.
“Oh that,” Miranda said with her thimble of a smile. “Of course, just one thing....”
She looked among the crowd with her soft sharp smile. She looked at the chancellor, the sheriff, his wife, the judge and all the countless other people whose secrets she held. With a small breath, she smiled just a little wider as her lips pursed in defiance, “See you soon.”
After she was dropped and hanged, her perfect legs dangled like limp branches, swaying gently in the October breeze, a smile permanently etched on her face, and her final promise burned in her eyes for all sinners to see.