Act 2: Create
He sits at his desk with a snifter. She poured the drink some time ago and left him in the studio. She happily waits in bed, reading. Waiting for him to come to here after he finishes the nightly works. She doesn't mind. She doesn't mind that in his opinion all he can do is create crap. She appreciates it all the same
He only creates after dark now.
She tells them he might be on the downside because of his illness, but that his work has never been more brilliant. They agree of course. And there might be something to it. But then they all about the home life...
"He drinks, and smokes. He wanders. And he never comes to bed until late at night. I wait for him, but I don't mind. He needs the solitude I think. I leave him a night cap and he come to bed later."
He can't deal with what it looks like in the day
He was once told that he would never like it if he did not have a taste for the warmth it brings to his lips and throat. He has learned though. Just as he has learned to create...like this. Crippled and weak.
They still eat it up. So he continues.
He only creates after dark now.
She tells them he might be on the downside because of his illness, but that his work has never been more brilliant. They agree of course. And there might be something to it. But then they all about the home life...
"He drinks, and smokes. He wanders. And he never comes to bed until late at night. I wait for him, but I don't mind. He needs the solitude I think. I leave him a night cap and he come to bed later."
He can't deal with what it looks like in the day
He was once told that he would never like it if he did not have a taste for the warmth it brings to his lips and throat. He has learned though. Just as he has learned to create...like this. Crippled and weak.
They still eat it up. So he continues.