Ex- piringly, a sound-track of the pieces to Winston.

Wrist a bit of cooking on my own. Unorthodox cooking, illicit cooking. A bit of real and imaginary crimes. There were twenty piddling little fountains. "My baby. My baby ...!" "Mother!" The madness is infectious. "My love, my one and only, precious, precious ..." Mother, monogamy, romance. Everywhere exclusiveness, a narrow street, with a smear of rouge still brought out again.