There was one painting, for example, where the perspective seemed wrong, where the viewpoint seemed to be at waist-level, and some of the people seemed to be fuzzily- drawn while others where portrayed with exquisite detail.There was one painting, for example, where the perspective seemed wrong, where the viewpoint seemed to be at waist-level, and some of the people seemed to be fuzzily- drawn while others where portrayed with exquisite detail. You had to stare at it a long time, or perhaps glance at the title, before you realized that it was a toddler's view of the world. Was this all Roger's way of "sketching" our discussion? I hadn't come to any conclusions when I heard footsteps. I stayed where I was; I was curious to see what he'd do or say. He bent down and started touching me, lightly and delicately. As I responded, he moved on to other areas. Finally, he leashed me again and led me to a broad armchair. He sat down and I strad- dled him, facing him, mounting him, until we were done. And then he led me to the kitchen and knelt me there again, while he cooked a long and elaborate dinner. Throughout, he hadn't said a single word. And so I knelt there, bound hand, foot, and neck, kneeling in my own kitchen, wondering if he really was Roger -- this time, the style did feel more like Roger -- and wondering if I should ask to be released. =============================================================== Dinner went much like breakfast and lunch, though with two tell- ing points. The first was that the chicken was seasoned just as Roger would have. This was more significant than you might think; Roger disdained written recipes, but achieved a marvelous consistency through his skills as a cook. I didn't see how he could teach someone else how to do that. |