We've always been taught about all the wonders of the world, their beginning and their end. I've always been fascinated by them, imagining myself travelling around the world to see them, photograph them to never forget them when the illness takes over. I saw all of them, except one, because she was destroyed a longtime before our era : the Lighthouse of Alexandria. I've always wondered about all the secrets that were destroyed, the lives it saw and what we will never know about it. I've always loved secrets, I was the best at keeping them.

But my favourite one is the one with the stars I've watched for years in my teenage years. The one that were in his eyes. Dark blue eyes with white dots all over them. It looked, well I assume it still looks like that, like the sky on a summer night far from the city lights. His eyes saw me how I've never seen myself. All the secrets I told him, his eyes always remembered. I can remember the sadness that darkened his blue and made his eyes black and white like the galaxy. Oh! All the pictures I have of those eyes. I loved those eyes, still do, but haven't seen them for decades looking at me.

When people ask me whose eyes are those, I often don't remember, but in those rare lucid moments I always answer : "Those eyes were my favourites things in the world, they should have been in museums, should have been seen by every persoon on this planet. They are my favourite wonder of the world."