Here's Looking At You, Arlene

I was backstage tonight with the bassist talking about various things, including how I would be flying in less than a month, and I'm nervous with all the bomb threats and strict rules they've got now. He told me he had been on TWA flight 800 a month before it crashed in 1998, and how he thought the plane felt old when he was on it. We also agreed that, really, thousands of planes fly around and land and they're fine, so it was still safe to fly.

We chatted about other things, too. During our chat, he moved his hand a bit, and I noticed his ring, or, rather, it noticed me. At least, it seemed to notice me. Set in silver and perched on his right hand was a gigantic eyeball staring at me. I gasped and backed up, pressed the palm of my hand to my chest and started to laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"That!" I pointed at the one frozen eyeball staring up at me.

"Oh, that? That's Arlene. My first love. She died, and I took her eyeball to remember her." he looked at me sadly and said very seriously, "I loved her."

"Nooooo..." I said, and peered at it again.

"Sure, look at it. You can even see blood vessels and everything. She's been with me for forty years. Old Arlene."

I looked carefully and, sure enough, there were tiny, very realistic blood vessels running through it, and the iris certainly looked like a genuine blue eye. I tapped it lightly and shuddered.

"It isn't really an eyeball." I said, but I didn't say it firmly. My extreme gullibility mixed with (kind of) wanting to believe this was actually a real eyeball were getting to me. So I had to think about it for a moment.

"If it were a real eyeball, it would have dissolved after forty years!" I said triumphantly.

"Not if it's under glass." he said, still looking sad for poor, dead Arlene.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Then tell me: how did she die?"

He smirked at me, and went to go on stage again, laughing.

"She died in a plane crash!"