He was clearly a fool, but he had a certain bearing she found attractive.
“Assumptions,” he pontificated, “are like flaws in a fine painting.”
She didn’t walk away.
“After you spot one you can’t stop seeing it, can you?”
She shook her head in agreement and looked where he was looking.
“It draws the eye every time you pass it by. It comes to consume your attention until you can’t stand it and you reject the whole canvas or-” He tilted his mask and sipped his drink. “You decide it’s an essential part of the beauty of the work.”
She cleared her throat. “You assumed this was a costume party?”
Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, I did.”