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She stands up beside him and

they, together, lift up a strip of

Venetian blind.  She starts kissing his cheeks.

He points at the old woman wearing a young

persons bathing suit.  She is dancing, sort of,

into the big waves.  He laughs and tells his wife

that he bets that she wished that she could

make out with his cheek.  She doesn’t respond,

but he takes no mind and tries to

answer a question he put forward to

himself, which is:  Why is her bikini

polka-dotted, with apocalyptic visions,

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