986. There was no point to trying to add up the cost of the paintings he had produced, what would be the point? If he added up all the money he had made selling his pictures he would not have been able to buy even one tube of oil paint. How stupid! How idiotic! he thought.
987. He was a sad sight sitting there at his kitchen table with the catalogue in his hand. He felt like a person might feel who comes across their own obituary in the local paper. Here was this paper document covered with information written up by someone he did not know, in a place he had never been, and couldn't imagine, but which seemed to put an end to his new idea of himself.
988. The next day the manager, seeing the dejected looks on Coromo's face, and his depressed, lack-lusted demeanor on the job, called him aside and questioned him about what was wrong. He soon found out what was it was, just as he had suspected.
989. The biggest problem for Coromo was what to do about Tallulah, who would arrive in a few weeks expecting to buy all his paintings for a dollar each, having provided by her investment in him all the necessary materials - materials which actually never really belonged to him in the first place.
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