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The Original Disposition

I was sitting alone, as usual, trying to find the space to clear my head when I noticed two figures approaching with drinks in their hands. Kurt C├ęsar, the huge bear like Argentine, and the pale vampire-like German Freddy Faust, thinning hair over an angular face, both lost in an argument. I turned away, hoping to avoid being seen.

Kurt waved at me, and the pair came over,

“Ah, N,” said Kurt, smiling,” trying to avoid company I see.”

“Yes, that’s me,” I mumbled,” trying to work. You’re not – “

Before I could finish my words Kurt sat and beckoned to Freddy,

“Come, let’s join N. You can tell him what you were saying.”

Freddy shook his head,

“I wasn’t trying to say anything Kurt. You know it. So, stop saying it.”

Kurt leant over to me,

“He thinks, ” he began, glancing at Freddy’s expression,” Ultraconceptualism is a waste of time.”

Freddy shook his head,

“Er, no I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Freddy, why deny it? You’ve been arguing with me for the past half hour. Ultraconceptualism is neither art nor philosophy. It’s a mess.”

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t say it was a mess.”

“Yes, you did Freddy. You said – “

Freddy raised a hand and looked at me while he spoke,

“Kurt, you’ve become so defensive. Every time me – or anyone for that matter – talks to you about this art movement you go into this defensive and aggressive retaliation. Haven’t you noticed?”

I stared back at Freddy,

“And, let me guess. You’re innocent in all of this?”

Freddy laughed and sat back

“Of course. I would never wind up Kurt.”