The Meaning of Beauty (Work In Progress.)
"Beauty my friend is a blessing" Piper remarked through gritted teeth as he tried, in vain, to re-light his pipe, his eyes never leaving the portrait above the fire. William, who had up until now, being enjoying the blessed silence replied, perhaps to curtly; "Oh really? How so?" Pipers face betrayed a flash of hurt but he continued unperturbed "because those who posess beauty, real beauty that is, need not worry, the rest will follow, money, power, it falls into their lap as if the world were their plaything." He paused, waiting for a response.
William entertained him, drawing on his cigarette he replied "There my dear Piper you are wrong. Beauty, in all forms, is in fact a curse. The Gods are cruel when they shape us mere mortals, and no-more so when they see fit to bestow the "gift of beauty" upon an unfortunate soul, for beauty is by nature fickle, as are those who posess it, they beguile the masses with their radiance and sweet talk their way into positions of power, and highstanding, but what pray tell happens when time catches up? When their beauty withers and dies along with their power and money?." he paused watching the faint blue smoke rise before him, and of course giving Piper a chance to argue, it was always more enjoyable when he did, but today he seemed to not take the bait.
"I shall tell you, it is then when all they had has been taken away from them, that the Gods cruel jape is played out, and they mock us for our stupidity."
He watched now with his grey eyes as a frown appeared on Pipers face, and with the annoyance all courtesy seemed to fade. "Must you always be so cynical William?"
Drawing once more upon his cigarette he looked at his long time friend; "Only my dear Piper, when the opportunity arises." Getting up from his chair turning his back on Piper and the dreadfully macabre portrait he said " Now if you'll be so kind as to summon me a handsome, I have an engagement with our American friend."
