Ocean's Breath Plateau Duet for theremin and lap steel.

Towhee could see Bushtit hanging on “Ditty’s” every word. Even if he glanced her way—as he often did—they stayed cupped toward the elder. She nosed the air, encouraging him to pay attention rather than worry about translating. She couldn’t follow half the conversation, though she was pretty skilled at piercing together contextual clues.

-“No thank you,”- the boy said politely but decisively. -“If your son has children, they’re your grandchildren, right? My mom has a lot of those. She even has great grandchildren. She’s old as shit,”- Bushtit shared in the manner of a child innocently repeating something he’d overheard.

Towhee caught that and snorted, He’s not wrong. Her eyes flashed with playful defiance as she inquired, You got any greats, ‘Ditty’?