“So tell me. What do you think?”
“It’s pretty, and charming, and sweet, but this statue is NOT art.”
“Whoa! What’s wrong with you, James? It’s everything art should be.”
“It’s incomplete. Therefore false.”
“What’s missing, then?”
“The other half of life’s duality.”
“Uh-huh. Only intellectuals come up with that kind of cynical, complicated crap.”
“Listen: It’s dangerous to believe that everything in the world is good and safe. That a little angel will always be there to protect you from evil.”
“Oh, come on. You gotta have a little faith.”
“How old is your daughter?”
“Is she dating?”
“I rest my case.”
Sylvia once asked me what I found so appealing about Vittoria. I replied there were many things. Her devilish eagerness to get into mischief, for one. And her humor. Intelligence. Creativity. Curiosity. But above all it was her guilelessness that captivated me. I kept testing it, to see if it were just an act. I couldn’t believe she could be so…what? Innocent. Sweet. Doe-like. But it was authentic. A quality I’d never before encountered.
Such a girl is easily exploited, no?