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Her face cackled like two winds in an overblown afternoon — that is to say she laughed. The wisened man tying her shoelaces laughed too, proudly.
"O one day, my love, you will be able to do this all by yourself," he said.
She lent down like a leaner and kissed his world-weary cheeks with a smile that mooned my dwindling infatuation. I nodded politely.

The lo-ovely man of everything a humble woman could hope for rose with a glance and a proposition.
"No sugar," I answered with fierce discretion. And he a-went off in the general direction of what I supposed to be the kitchen, leaving me entirely alone but for the other person in the room.
"You see why I love him so?"
"No-o-o-o," I retorted in song. "All I see is an unhealthy man and his nurse."
Her face reflected the horrific aftermath of a juvenile joke told to the wrong audience.
"Grow up," she snapped.
"All right. Maybe then you'd..."
"What is your problem?"
"He's in his forties!"
"So?"
"So-o-o-o he was your age now when you were a baby."
"I hardly think that matters. He's only ever known me after my coming of age."
I glowered at the floor and paused for a trickle of ugly sun.
"But why?" I resumed a moment later.
"Why what?"
"Why allow such a man to approach you?"
"Because such a man could offer me more than any other. Such a man is a well-polished pit of knowledge and experience that only comes from many years."
"And you don't waver on that at all?"
"No. It's maturity or nothing."
"And maturity only comes about at the halfway point?"
"In men, yes."
"I wouldn't call I man who goes for woman half his age mature."
"I would. It means he's broken free of the restrictive class barriers and begun to appreciate people for their minds and not their status."
"Ah but you're looking for a mature man who is looking for a younger woman, which means that you both have different views on the situation."
"You don't expect me to marry myself do you?"

O and then the cups were brought in by the shining knight from the forty-year war, who sat down and gazed in at his lover in awe and patted her fragile skull with his paw.
"Darling, look how you've grown," he gushed.

And I asked Ben, who had appeared from the window, grappling hook in hand, what his relevant thoughts were.
"I preferred the six-sentence version to the umpteenth degree," he told.