“You know, I’m thinking about quitting the psychology business,” Gideon said, once their intense rivalry had settled into something of a strange, antagonistic friendship.
“You can’t be serious?” Lorenzo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He sat up in the psychologist’s long chair. “You, the greatest psychologist of all time? You’ve written books on the science of it! How could you just walk away?”
“I understand your worries, Lorenzo,” Gideon said, putting his hands together. “Who would you clash with every week if I were to leave? But you see, it is actually you who has inspired me to consider this life change.”
Gideon sighed, then picked up a nearby pen and began to toy with it. “I feel that life is stale. You know where the world is going from here. We don’t have long left. Do I really want to spend my final months or years stuck in the job my father chose for me? Lorenzo, your stories of adventure inspire me. There is a tale behind each traditional tattooist you’ve visited, every design they created. It’s inspiring.”
“So what, you’re going to become a tattoo artist?”
After a snort at the comment, Gideon continued. “No, I still detest those things. I’m considering a short career in architecture before the world collapses completely and life as we know it is over.”
“Architecture, huh?” Lorenzo said. “You know, I met an architect once, while I was getting a tattoo by an established realism tattoo artist. Brisbane artists truly are so much better than the ones in Melbourne. Anyway though, sounds like an interesting profession.”
“I figure that architecture is a job I can do from anywhere. There isn’t much time left, so I’d like to do some travelling while I still can.
“I guess this is it, then. You sound like you’ve already made your mind up.”
Gideon smiled. “I suppose I have. Thank you, my friend.”
Lorenzo stood, feeling odd at being called friend by someone he had been so sure he hated. “May our paths cross once again. Good luck.”