"Why?" He gouged his thumb at the blob of clay on his stand, and an eye socket magically appeared.
I slapped the pages in my hand. "I want you to read this."
"Later," Perry said. He gouged out another eye socket.
"Now," I insisted. "It's the best thing I've ever done."
Perry considered this for the space of three seconds. "Oh, all right." He went to the small sink in the corner of the room, and rinsed the clay from his hands. He dried them quickly on a soiled towel, walked over to the lumpy divan that sprawled beneath his long window, and said, "Let's have it."
I extended the manuscript and he took it. I lit a cigarette and watched him while he read, my chest expanding with pride.
When he finished, he put the manuscript down beside him and lighted a cigarette of his own.
"A bit old fashioned, isn't it?" he asked.
"How so?" I answered, ready to spring to the defense of the story.
"Well, using Mesmerism for Hypnotism, for example."