How could we know that was what it was? That we were losing a whole person? We were having a ball. While before our eyes Esther Haverton was having a downward plunge to—I don’t know what to call it. It began in the Fall, lasted most of the season, Easter saw it over and Esther at Greenfarm. Well, she always bent the old elbow a lot—who doesn’t? But I mean lots when the onset of this started—whatever it is—coming last Fall (now, looking back, we know). Starting at 11 A.M., onze heures, that bejeweled hand went right for the Vodka Martini with a deadly grip, oh my dear! Why didn’t somebody stop her? But how could they know? That she was on her way to—this? Anyway, what would things have been like if we’d stopped Esther? Dreary. Morbid. Too glum to think about. But once Esther Haverton started, you just couldn’t stop her. A whole party stopped for her. She was a real entertainer, you know; a natural performer. Oh she danced and she switched her bottom and just made everyone roar with laughter.
What do You think about Had I A Hundred Mouths (1985)?
