And I’m the curator, so I should know. Come, come, let’s head on down together. I would be fascinated to learn more about your process.”
Frances and Mychal began walking across the parking lot, but every few seconds Frances would pause and say,
“Oh, I must introduce you to...” and we’d stop for a while to meet an artist or a collector or a “funding partner.”
Slowly, he was swallowed by all the people who loved Prisoner 101 and wanted to talk with him about it,
and after we stood behind him for a while, Daisy finally grabbed him by the hand
and said, “We’re gonna head down to the show. Enjoy this. I’m so proud of you.”
“I can come with,” he said, turning away from a gaggle of art students from Herron, the art college in town.
“No, have fun. You gotta meet all these people, so they’ll buy your pictures.”
He smiled, kissed her, and returned to his crowd of fans. When Daisy and I reached the edge of the parking lot,
we saw through the trees a flashlight waving back and forth in the air,
so we wound our way down a little hill toward the light until the brush opened up into a wide concrete basin.
A tiny stream of water—I could easily step over it—bubbled along its bottom.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색