Bored in the office, W. visiting. He picks up a box of green tea and throws it at me. – 'Do something'. W. has a slapstick sense of humour, he says. Well, it's my slapstick that amuses him. My stumblings. My prat-falls. – 'No one could call you a graceful man'.
He, W., is surprisingly lithe. He could have been a gymnast, with the right training. Can I imagine him, soaring above the crowds in his tights?
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