"What a masterpiece!" The scholar stood back from the painting and clasped his hands together as if in prayer as he tilted his head to view the picture from a slightly different angle.

A man approached having heard the scholar's comments in the quiet gallery. The plastic bag he was carrying rustled as he put his sandwiches back in it. He stood beside the scholar, munching on corned beef and bread and then, his mouth still full, uttered "what a load of crap!"

The scholar spared him a sideways glace, taking in the donkey jacket and heavy boots and returned his concentration to the painting,

"This, my man, is Les Demoiselles d'Avignon by Pablo Picasso. It is one of the most important paintings in the genesis of modern art."

"Aye, I know. I can read the plaque as well as you, it's still crap."

He took a bottle of coke from his bag and opened it with a satisfying hiss.

The scholar took a deep breath never removing his eyes from the painting,

"When this picture was painted it represented a radical departure from traditional modes of representation in both subject matter and style, but I don't expect you to understand that."

The man screwed the top back onto the coke bottle and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand,

"I know what I like, and that isn't it." He nudged the scholar, "here, want to see a real picture?"

The Scholar looked in his direction briefly but said nothing, his features screwing up as the man's hot breath met his face. The man reached inside his jacket and pulled out a newspaper, opening it at the page of a scantily dressed young woman with the headline 'Wot a scorcher!'

The scholar turned away slowly shaking his head.

"What? You would rather stare at that badly drawn picture of prostitutes in a brothel than admire the beauty of a real woman? I mean, look at her, she's a masterpiece!" He held the paper up in front of the scholar.

"Get that cheap pornography away from me!" The scholar raised an arm and pushed the paper from his view. The man folded up the paper and put it back in his jacket,

"Suit yourself, but when I get home she'll be going up on my wall and I'll look at her every day to remind me how beautiful real people are."

The man turned and walked out of the gallery and the scholar watched him leave.

The End

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