Beagin

It was more like an antique keyhole. Big Swiss’s middle finger, a bent

Greta could feel her finger looking around the ballroom. Then it swept the floor. Now it rose and fell, slowly and gracefully, in a Viennese waltz.

The secret is to make contact and then break it, over and over and over, and then kiss it deeply, resting my mouth on it while drawing letters with my tongue. I went through the entire alphabet. What works best on you? The letter I, lowercase, with an extra-long stem and a circled dot. And then, every thirty seconds or so, I let my tongue go slack and still. I wait for all the clouds to pass. I wait for the hard blue sky. It takes about twenty minutes.”