Not soft Torin

A guest called my set soft Torin between lays. I corrected him once. Vale has his dial and his street drop-ins. I have mine. Different contract with truth. Different candle. The room laughed nervous and then listened harder, which is the only apology I accept.

Shade did not sandwich me between two Loombridge bits that night. Small mercy. I sang Chair Facing the Door and somebody in a foam-steel tabard cried without filming it. That helped.

Play the hearth cuts on KTVN when the mezzanine needs a breath. Leave the joke at customs.