Oregon. French. Bordeaux. Burgundy. Coat Do Rain, or something like that. Italian. Barollo. Brunello. Ports. Tawny.” She only half followed. She did...not know wine. Or liquor, really. Everclear punch and seltzer was all she had learned at college. And she was distracted. Too distracted to really pay attention to his man-splaining about his expensive stuff. Was she anxious that he would make a move, or excited by the prospect? “At last. Our mission. These are brandies. And … this little beauty …. A mosquito tried to land on her shoulder, crumpled into a tiny spec of carapace and folded wings and she brushed it off onto the grated floor, where it skittered down to land on one of the streets underneath this one.The man who looked old enough to have survived the Trump administration puffed on his pipe and nodded. He spoke in flowing creole, worlds stumbling together as if they had been partially melted by a glancing nuclear explosion, waving his hand to brush away a mosquito.He says that. More

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