Kitty. The tip of the tongue pushes into the incisors twice, giving birth to the rhythm of her name. Like one of her bells jingling.

Kitty. A drop of Metaxa on the lips. Two steps up the stairs to heaven.

Ki-i-itti... It's like you're beckoning a wayward cat. Will he give a stroke or scratch his hands?

Kitty. A syllable for each of her men. Two steps up the stairs to hell.

Whale. One. The only one.

Hank is drunk. Not too much, only to a pleasant dizziness, when the fingertips and the skin on the cheekbones become slightly numb, and the surrounding sounds become muffled. Yes, he drinks alone,...