Our man, a fine man, has a moustache. This he curls, twists, or otherwise tweaks on a fairly regular basis, which is to say very nearly at all times. Women do not whistle when he passes by, but it is clear that they are impressed. It is a sex thing, he explains, though nobody ever asks.
Our man has certain opinions on certain things: he enjoys cattle, he does not enjoy reading, he is indifferent to music. All of these opinions, along with his moustache and certain other qualities, more or less define this man.
Our man, today, is inside of a room he has never been in before. At first he looks about with vague curiosity, but after a few moments is thoroughly bored. His fingers begin to feel for bumps or strings inside his pockets; his eyes roll about in their sockets; his knees buckle and unbuckle. Finally he thinks of a food he would like to eat and smiles, briefly, then leaves the room.
Our man’s character has been exhausted. There is nothing more that he can teach us, or more accurately, that we would care to learn about him.
Our man has certain opinions on certain things: he enjoys cattle, he does not enjoy reading, he is indifferent to music. All of these opinions, along with his moustache and certain other qualities, more or less define this man.
Our man, today, is inside of a room he has never been in before. At first he looks about with vague curiosity, but after a few moments is thoroughly bored. His fingers begin to feel for bumps or strings inside his pockets; his eyes roll about in their sockets; his knees buckle and unbuckle. Finally he thinks of a food he would like to eat and smiles, briefly, then leaves the room.
Our man’s character has been exhausted. There is nothing more that he can teach us, or more accurately, that we would care to learn about him.
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