| Half drunk on fatigue, half drunk on soft
coziness, crooning like croaking in my flat
flat voice. Wild thing, you make my
heart sing , going no further because the
lyrics I knew ended there. And grinning you
collapsed into sweet sleepy smiles. I was
already miles away in good dreaming.
I don't know where he found it, but Jason
used to sing this nasty song to me, driving down
the highway. Go to sleep, you little ugly
poodle, or Daddy will punch if you if you
doooooon't. It was funny, it always worked; it
always made me relax.
Becca says she knows things are going to be fine
if her husband is humming loud tuneless things in
front of the computer. I mean she knows that they
are safe. Danny, her husband, says he keeps meaning
to tape her singing in the shower. They laugh
and laugh and laugh.
| 
