I’m not a huge beach person. I was born pale and grow more translucent with each passing year. I burn more easily than tissue paper.
So it’s not at all surprising that when someone found a giant eyeball on the beach, that person was not me.
But, boy, do I wish it had been.
You see, the guy who found the eyeball reported it straight away to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.
That’s right. He didn’t try to freak out one single beach-goer.
There aren’t many opportunities in life in which you know, with absolute certainty, that you were the right person for that situation. And this was mine. And some humorless yokel stole my perfect situation. It is a tragedy as large as the iris in that eyeball.