Laurell Towery

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My hand darts out and snatches the eye from the plate, and before I can think, I shove the entire thing into my mouth. The cartilage is thick and tough. I bite down until it pops, bursting open, its salty liquid oozing down my throat. It’s so good. There’s a hint of sweetness, a lemony tang, almost like a cherry tomato.
The Eyes Are the Best Part
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