I looked up to see my disembodied eye floating there in the firmanent, whirling around like a UFO and exuding the most luxurious florescent light, and I asked my eye what name it wanted to be called and it said, "Ralph," even though it was just an eye and didn't have a mouth.

I think it spoke to me telepathically.

"So, Ralph...," I said, "...So, Ralph, my eye--just why did you up and decide, on the spur of the moment, to leave your socket inside my skull and float there in the firmament like some UFO?"

And Ralph said to me, "Because I was hungry. I left my home in your eye socket because I wanted to go get something to eat." But remember, Ralph was just an eye and he didn't have a mouth so I don't know how he could eat if he was hungry.

I think he ate metaphors.

Then Ralph flew off away from me with a gliding, frictionless motion like a hovercraft...making a kind of humming or buzzing sound as he floated along in the firmament.

Some twenty minutes later Ralph floated back to me,...and I saw through the one good eye I had left that he was carrying the half-devoured carcass of a fru-fru haired little french poodle along with him. Though Ralph, of course, was just an eye and didn't have arms in which to carry such a creature.

It was a white poodle which was now half-eaten and stained with its own blood. Around its headless neck I spotted a plain leather dog collar with a metal tag. On this metal tag one could read the name "Fifi" clearly etched into its surface.

This all happened last Sunday.