On sandy shores, listen to the kids cracking the ice on the bay who murmur rumors they've half-heard around the schoolyard.
"If you touch that fluskal, it'll kill ya... You blow up, week later, and the coppers gotta scrape your guts out of the concrete. That's what happened to Jeremy, yknow-"

Listen to the kids, who pick at the ice with their pencils and fingers, looking for that fluskal when the sea has frozen over. Wonder why they'd be looking for such an awful thing.