Chapter 10

If anything characterizes this company in its tangible matter, it is its walls littered with abstract paintings. All very similar: at first I thought they were pieces of skin or meat that ranged from pinkish to deep red, like pieces of naked bodies entangling, making love or sometimes mutilating themselves. And they don't have a signature. How strange.

I read on some internet sites that many paintings do not explicitly carry a signature on the end of the painting, but that they do it in another way. Some artists do it by painting their face somewhere that people appear, others do it with their initials through a technician that only allows to capture the signature with X-rays.

I have no idea if the signature of the artist in question is "signature" of the range of similar colors. Or would that be his "style"?

The point is that so far I have been thinking about it because as Mr Hamilton finishes his meeting with Mr Mendes, he is on his way to lunch. Vania and I receive our rations in