She hung on my every word. Oh, I was glorious, compelling, charismatic. “If I put this next to that, see? Harmony emerges.”
“It’s a cruet set and a glass in a pipe.”
Brushing aside a twitch of irritation, I found patience and explained. “Yes, but curated, composed. The context is everything. It’s all about the act of bringing them together. That’s what makes it art.”
Now, surely now, I had her. I leaned closer. “And if I put this next to here….”
The slap seemed unnecessary and unkind.