Then why do you look sad?
Because you speak to me with words, and I look at you with feelings.
It’s impossible to have a conversation with you. You never have any ideas, just feelings.
That’s not true. Feelings contain ideas.
Let’s try to have a serious conversation. You’ll tell me what you like, what you want, and I’ll do the same. Go on, you start.
Flowers, animals... Blue skies, the sound of music... I don’t know. Everything. And you?
Ambition. Hope... Movement, accidents. What else? I don’t know. Everything.
You see? I was right five years ago. We don’t understand each other. What can I do? I don’t know what to do.
How’s the old man?
Not bad. I’v found an idea for a novel. I won’t describe people’s lives, but life itself, just life. Everything that takes place between people: space, sounds and colours. It should be possible. Joyce tried to do it, but I should be able to improve on him.