"I'm a heterosexual Mapplethrope," said the artist, Jeremy. Some hope. He's always been a sad little fuck, the kind of kid who gets beaten up. Julie has always found him physically repulsive; she didn't know that he was obsessed with prostitutes.
What faces the wall is quite simply the worst single thing Julie has ever seen in her life, muddy with paint, hideous to look at, poorly mounted, it involves an inserted and lit candle and is called True Love.
"I wanted to celebrate the endless variety of whores," says Jeremy. Sure. That's why all the paintings look the same.
The train whines into Waterloo. Julie stands, adjusts her headscarf and suddenly realizes she's not going to carry that thing out. With an air of delicate nonchalance, she turns and leaves it to its fate.
Car 7 map