Sink[w]hole

“Moorish white,” she said. And he said, “How do you know?”

“Here’s one hand—and here’s another,” she said. “Now watch
hands multiply like rabbits.”

He grabbed her hand and whispered a silly nothing, “The whole
hinges on whether the whole is hinged.”

“I’d like to examine your hand,” she said, splaying his palm
and admiring his lifeline. “But unfortunately I haven’t the time.”

“I’m busy, too, my love: I’m at the end of a semester. Please
mete my donut, Mr. Pappus.”

“Moorish white,” she said. And he said, “How do you know?”