(Or were they yellow?)
Marie Curie swore she could see in the dark, but really it was others who could see her. Who could miss those luminescent green eyes in the dark? At least her hair wasn’t glowing, am I right?
Anyway, all the French connoisseurs at the cafe sipping their espressos flinched when her unblinking eyes turned toward them. “Please blink, when will she blink, good god, why won’t she blink!” they all thought, every one of them, in a startling synchronicity of thought. Only the street sweeper pushing his long-handled broom across the cobblestones thought nothing, only shrugged, pulled the brim of his hat down, and got back to thinking, got back to sweeping, perhaps about chrysanthemums, but more likely about the sausage he was going to eat for lunch that day.
Marie Curie stared at the espresso machine and, if one didn’t know better, one would think that was the cause for all that steaming milk. Fortunately, these worldly Parisians had been around a cafe or two. No need to burn some witches here, thank goodness. Still, those glowing green eyes…
“Goddamn, I’m so hungry!” Marie Curie cried, and several Parisians brought her their croissants or whatever. She ate them all. She sipped her coffee and sighed.
She breathed in deeply the coffee steam and slowly, oh so slowly, closed her uncanny eyes.
The rest of the cafe sighed in relief.
Except for Jean-Pierre, that scoundrel!