(Tamara sits in chair beside window, draped in towel, posing. Jeremy hunches over, painting large canvas laying on floor.)
Tamara: "Are you saying you faked being crazy just to have a place to stay?"
Jeremy: "I don't think so. Probably not in the way you are thinking, anyway. I am just saying it was my occupation. I was being paid...well at least housed and fed in return. At some point I chose - if that is the correct word for it - to do something else for a living."
(Jeremy gets up walks over to Tamara and adjusts her pose to have her head looking upwards and to the side. Leaves blue and yellow streaks on her face.)
Jeremy: "For a long time after that I just roamed around looking for something else I was good at. (pause, returns to canvas) Perhaps in the same way I 'chose' crazy, I was pulled or chosen back. People now pay for my nightmares. Still-lifes of it. Better pay, actually. Maybe I'm getting better at my calling. Or I found a more upscale clientele than the state."
Tamara: "Or just crazier."
Jeremy: "Probably so. (gets up and readjusts Tamara's head) Now my sweet, pale nightmare, if you would stop looking out the window and fidgeting."
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