1 April 2009. Weather master says it's a go. Early morning tv, scratchy noise at dawn, test pattern and a table of booze. The Jim Beam bottle on it's side, bar smells, late night crowd...
But wait, that's Nicola's fine head, with the impossibly soft ears, leaping onto window end of bed, making her way up past calf and thigh and hip, tentatively eager for a caress...
Two otters, side-by-side, their more-than-human hands joined in furry embrace, parted for a few moments--the exigencies of the tide, then regained...
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