I was waiting, sitting on one of her century-aged chairs. It was very comfortable, very welcoming, very kingly. The frame was made of wood and its seat was a dark red velvet. Its condition was, in fact, better than most modern chairs and sofas that you find at a typical house. She seemed to have taken care of it very delicately, as if it were fragile, or some sort of prized possession. But then, everything in this house was in an unusally good condition. The small coffee table to my right looked like it was bought yesterday, yet its design and style resembled the coffee tables that were built 50 years ago. The fine wood of which it was made was lively. The tall glass tumbler on the coffee table was extremely glossy. Had no one ever touched it before? Obviously that was not the case, since she brought it to me. I examined it closely but could not find any sign of her fingerprints on it. The glass was so clear that it only made the water more fresh. I had to have it; I took a drink. The water was at a perfect temperature, not too cold and not too warm. My muscles relaxed as I felt the water run through my body, and I closed my eyes.
I considered the bigger picture of the house. The residence had a black roof and the walls were white concrete. Not bricks, just concrete. The grass on the garden was green just as any other grass. But it was not too dark and not too light. Once again, it was perfect. The flowers she had planted were Gardenia Cape Jasmine. The peddles were white, smooth and fragile. Just the touch of a human finger could cause it to fall and crumble to the ground. This was all the front part of the yard though, and I wondered how the back of the yard was. I opened my eyes to get up but I had to force myself with every muscle to get out of the chair. I took a couple of steps toward the large window that revealed the back lawn. It was surprisingly even better than the front lawn. The flowers that were growing here were not Gardenias, they were Giant Ruffled Salmon Begonias. It was not as fragile as the Gardenia Cape Jasmine and it had a dark pink colour. The water fountain's pond wall was about a meter high and was trimmed with exquisitely sculpted lion heads. On the top of the fountain was Cupid taking aim. He could make people fall in love just by firing an arrow at their hearts. It was like a drug. How could she have the money to afford all of this? How could she maintain everything in top condition? How could she--I felt dizzy. I felt exhausted and I just wanted to lie down and fall asleep. I knew, though, that it wasn't the time to fall asleep; any moment now she would be returning from the washroom and we would finally have our discussion. My exhaustion was beyond my control. I didn't understand this feeling. Why would I all of a sudden feel so tired? I couldn't help it--I fell to the floor. I can't keep awake. Just as my eyes were about to close, I saw her walk down the stairs. She smiled.
