“The second,” Seth nods. As for the drunkenness: “Maybe next time.”
He listens, not entirely knowledgeable of her field — perhaps, the least fitting person to contribute to this conversation, if Emel had ever been looking for one — thinking about everything it might mean. There’s something to be said about the universe Seth finds himself in, all the gore and all the dubious ways he’d inevitably engaged in, but the outside perspective brings the wonder forward yet again. “You said it yourself, you’re a doctor. If there’s anyone to question their ways, it’s you. I’m an artist,” he adds in, “it’s not my place. Because you see, in art, there’s beauty in nearly everything. Rapp’s Deterioration of Mind over Matter, or Caruso, Dalí, Bouguereau, or Gericault who used human remains from the morgue as subject for his work.” He shrugs. “Maybe it’s partially our fault — we, who have praised it for its gruesome brilliance, perhaps giving way to the things that might inspire it. But to you — doctors, and policemen, and the detectives, it’s the why, the how. It’s probably just fitting.”
And much like a painting, they’re stuck in their very own chiaroscuro. The darkness of night, the stark highlights of the city below. He offers a hand, “Seth.” Beat. “Burton Graves, if we’re being formal. But we’re both an inch away from a free fall, so I assume we aren’t.”
“Maybe next time.” She repeated with a small nod. That would be something. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she had been that drunk, yes she had a glass of wine every now and then, and she and Josie had given it their best shot the last time they had been drinking. But the kind of drunk where you confessed your secrets to strangers? Well that was a whole different level and she wasn’t sure if she never wanted to experience that again, or if she quite missed it.
“You see art...all I have the pleasure of seeing is alive or dead...with the occasional person who seems to hang back and forth.” When it came to the beauty side of things, sure Emel could see where the artists came from. But really it was the complexity of it all she found a marvel, the detail behind what made a human, just that, human. “And it makes it painfully obvious how much none of them actually know how fragile they are.”
“I didn’t quite think I’d be having such an in depth conversation this high up - makes it all seem a little more serious doesn’t it?”
