bedizen

The house was redecorated, even the chairs reupholstered. However silly Mike found it, this was important to Sylvia. The parade of homes was always such a pretentious event. Their neighbors showing off their exotic skins, antique silver and marble flooring. But their walls lacked any sentiments. They were filled with Picasso, Rembrandt, or a copy at least. The flowers were always real though.

Sylvia was busy arranging their own flowers in the dining room. She had pulled the white lace curtains to draw in the daylight. He watched her move the roses with such deftness. When people toured the homes, they saw this carefully crafted beauty and fawned over it. But they never saw what was real, what really made the home. He was glad that she left the pictures of the family as well as Derek's toys in the foyer.