“*Rebl*? What happened to your *eye*??”
Shark? What shark?”
Plans?”
Flash bulb? Blinding? *Disappeared*?”
“Go ahead,” she urged. “Find out where it leads. It won’t hurt you. Like it did me.”
“Aahh!”
—–
“Somewhere in this Edwardston Station Gallery, my love, my *future* love, is a clue to the whereabouts of my missing eye. I can feel it. So close.” But still they walk right by.
Sunklands 