I’m not drinking to get drunk, like Pitman. Only to make the sharp edges of things softer.

Saying, in my scratchy voice, ‘My friend who? Who’s my friend? I want a friend, friend. I’m needful of a friend.’

This is daring! My toes are twisty, twitchy. Wish I could see this guy’s face, the surprise in it like someone has grabbed him between the legs.