Almost Perfect
“He won’t tell Eva.
He will go to Cologne anyway.
These are all sentences that clatter about like dull plates in Richard’s empty mind as he sits in his studio chair. Transfixed. Dumbfounded. Having just been told that the conference is cancelled. All off. No funding, no Cologne.
No Germany. No castles. No passport needed.
But Richard has his passport, his clothes and his bags. He has everything. He is almost packed.
And so he sees what he will do: he will finish packing and go ahead with all his plans—how can he not, after all? And it will work, he knows that, for isn’t that how most people operate, most of the time, as though their fantasies were true? Most highly successful people, that is.
The only difference will be that no one will pay for him, and what does that matter? He can pay for himself, subsidize his own trip. God knows he owes himself a trip to Europe, a man of his age, who has worked hard all his life—and for what? For a bunch of ungrateful women, it sometimes seems.
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