“What are you looking at?” I asked him at length, seeing the slight curve of a smile and the attentive hand-on-chin. “I like listening to you,” he said softly. “I like the tone and inflections of your voice, ”

“Even though it’s deep?” I interjected.

“I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t really ascribed any qualities to it, per se. I just like the inflections, the way – you know, it seems to be some sort of an epidemic among girls, to end sentences with an upward lilt, as if they were asking a question. Have you heard that?”

Oh tiger, I’ve heard everything, I thought, and smiled.


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