Image by J. J. W. Mezun. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Giuseppe was on the verge o’ tears, his face flush. His heart beat gainst his chest like a mental patient in a straitjacket.

It wouldn’t be for long…

He stared @ Sol, sitting in front o’ him with a tilted head & crossed legs, with pleading eyes.

No matter how much force he put into his lungs, the sound wouldn’t come out.

Sol tilted his head the other way. “¿Is this some joke?”

Giuseppe shrugged, & then pointed @ his throat & shook his head.

Sol leaned upward. “O… That’s too bad. Well, maybe a drink to… clear your throat might help.” He smiled up to a gray-garbed henchman just ‘side him. “Ronnie.”

Ronnie clutched Giuseppe & began to drag him ‘way while he struggled & wheezed. This time the tears did fall.

Following them were the rest o’ the henchmen, holding a large jug o’ lye.


Laryngitis, Lye, Opera