The absurdity, naturally, lying in the tension between all the things that could have been said and yet nothing was

by Christos Polydorou

When I ran into Tyron Lannister on the streets of Chelsea three years ago, he froze, and his eyes widened with horror. I was wearing glasses! Was I about to tell him how he changed my life and ask him what was going to happen in the next season of Game of Thrones?

How to tell him, Tyron, this is an transient time for me, I am not even watching TV?

 
Tyron had a hound-dog twice his size. It regarded its master, only.
 
I smiled, politely, proudly, at Peter Dinklage, and continued my path to the David Zwirner Gallery, where Yayoi Kusama was exhibiting her infinity rooms that winter, in New York.
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