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was a fist fighter with gloves, and then a whiskey salesman, he thought to himself And here it was nothing but boring to con- sider domestic dities. Animal turned in his chair and watched two old ladies (forty or so, but old) reading the lips of one another's slow moving red on red lipstick. One with bunched up hair and a pale dress could only facially be seen from the side; But it was easy to decern that there was no sound in her mouth. The other was at a distance, her elbows resting on the last curvature of the bar. For the latter lady, he had to narrow his eyelids, and press his pupils to stretch for open sight. Finally he could witness her and his mind took on the picture of her falli- ing; while her lips signaled, that her soul had lost its echo. The time was coming into evening; Animal knew it was bad to be inside drinking when the sun was sett- ing. He looked into Colonel's eyes; and enjoyed a sharp good blue. Not a Hollywood blue; for there graves; that through only pinpoint to pinpoint of growth had mixed as if into a substance of cream