Gist
In this his apocryphal pre-incarnation I have him in nightgown and cap clutching a candlestick, big Willie Winkie cack-handed with drink, he soft-shoes, manoeuvres himself in behind her, just as the first of his hic- cups erupts, impressing the spoon of himself on her echoing form, more stirred by the whiff of her, dizzy with […]