will light you home when you go clanking down the lanes. Buy nine pints, get the tenth free. It used to be five. Inflation, explains the tapster. Too much for me and my huddled group, there’s work to be done in the morning and I’ve sunk my share. I’ll ride out before they sound the bell, into the night freshness to join the community of cats, lonely shufflers and out-late lovers, all of us lit by the same glowing star, all moon-gazing and seeking our own answers.
