The brown velvet slopes gaped wide, just over the lip of the hill, into the maw: the inner eye seeing come one, come all. Sprinkling of toothy lights, biting the darkness, eating luck and chance. Ceniza knew today would be the day…or was it night? The light never changed here. She grew weary of Jeremy’s façade, the bastard. She noticed a small, poorly sewed patch on his backside. Someone tried to repair his waistcoat, but it was starting to show its age. So was he. Though the Eye saw come one, come all, she was beginning to see, too. Clearly.