Ever so lightly tanned were the woman's retinas. The linoleum blast had left scars on her face and forearms, but the tanning of the retinas was what she prized most. "Look at my nicely-tanned retinas," she would say to her friends in the days following.
The woman would walk down 54th Street and bat her formerly-luxurious eyelashes at passers-by. One might say she would "flap her eyelids" rather than "bat her eyelashes," but that would just be splitting hairs, as it were. Men would glance and then glance again. "Do you find yourself drawn to my nicely-tanned retinas?" she would ask them. The men would avert their eyes and walk by quickly. The woman would beam a self-satisfied smile and flap her eyelids once more.
All the way down 54th the woman walked and flapped. Approaching 5th Avenue, she reached into her purse and pulled out a candy bar of the same name. She opened it, discarded the wrapper, and sank her teeth into the chocolately, peanutty-crispy goodness. A young police officer drew near, and the woman could not resist. She flapped her eyelids at the handsome young man. "Good afternoon officer. Do you notice anything?" Her eyelids flapped wildly.
"Indeed I do," replied the policeman, "I am afraid I will have to ticket you for littering."