For someone who needs refuge, a key is provided.

His very limbs feel different, as if they know that sometime soon there might be a little softness, a little love to spend like money, and the body’s whole business won’t be to keep itself...

A waltz begins, that floating, sweet rhythm. The fiddle is plaintive. A few minutes ago she was at least pleasantly contented. Now certain of the notes dip into her like ladles and come up full...

Everyone is drinking. She can feel them out there drinking, turning into beasts.