I have been taking in temporary alchohol orphans and delivering them safe to their grown-up owners oftn'er and oftn'er, and really I don't mind. I feel like a wicked rakish school-master-matron-maiden-mulchpile, and it's all the fault,

of a misplaced keg

And a girl ripe for the head-patting.

"There there it's all right," she said, "and married men,

"are never

"worth it."

There was a pause.

"married people."

Another.

"And hardly ever."

She tilted her head to the side and she looked out of the window and sighed and looked sidelong at the girl agonising on her couch and not sure that this was helping, for all of her black and red experience.

There are some things.

And the week-and-half fly by night, away from here:

The change my life again.

<<agé chose>>

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