The old lady leaned across the table. ‘Are you heading up to Dublin?’
Colin turned from the window and the expanse of peaty bog. ‘Sorry?’
‘I asked whether you’re going to Dublin.’
‘Yes. To see a specialist. In the hospital.’
‘Nothing too serious, I hope?’
'I have a detached retina.'
'A detached rectum?' The woman asked, her brow furrowing.
'A detached retina.'
'How do you detach your rectum? Does it move somewhere else?'
'Retina. In my eye.' He pointed to his face.
'In your eye?'
'I have a detached retina in my eye.'
'I see why you need a specialist.'
A drabble is a story of 100 words.
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