….“Abigail isn’t the name I would’ve picked for her, but it does suit her in a somewhat psychedelic, drug fucked kinda way.” Patrick says with a wry smile plastered across his face.
“Psychedelic? Drug fucked? I’m not following?”
“Haha! Yeah, sure you’re not!” he says with a smug bravado. “But I’ll entertain you, and attempt to communicate with you in a way you’ll understand, because the depth seems to be out a little right now. What if I said her name colours the sky with bright brilliant shades, neons pinks with a roundhouse blue.” he says with a wide eyes glare across his face as he gestures towards the sky with marvellous magnificence.
“Neon pink and roundhouse blue? Are you telling me a story, or painting a picture?”
“Either or really, whatever floats the boat you’re standing on. They’re all just words weaving pictures into movements like a dancer does with music.”
“There’s no correlation between one or the other, you’re just saying there is when clearly there isn’t!”
“Says you, but as you said at the beginning of all this, following isn’t a strong suit of yours.”
“Now you’re just twisting words I used to try and make your lack of ability seem deliberate.”
“There in lies the skill of it all……”
