Prompted by:"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!~Emily Dickinson

.

That—"Heaven" is—to Me!

Will you look at that sky Tovarisch? Now this is a bit of heaven, pink sands, palm trees and," he held up his glass, "drinks with little umbrellas in them."

"What is that concoction you are drinking Napoleon, it looks rather nauseating."

"A mai tai," Solo grinned.

"That sounds ridiculous."

.

There—Paradise—is found!

"Don't you drink anything other than vodka, remember variety is the spice of life," Napoleon quipped as he watched a bikini-clad girl slither past.

"Drinking while on a hot sandy beach is not one of my preferences."

His words fell on deaf ears; his partnerwas already in pursuit.

.

That spurned us—Yesterday!

Napoleon returned in a few minutes, looking red in the face, or at least one side of it.

"You were turned down...the Solo charm did not win her over."

"No," he said rubbing his cheek. :Say let's go to the bar, the odds will be better there."

Illya snickered at the solution.