Botryoidal

The room was stunningly beautiful. Everything she expected for a couple of months now was somehow expressed inside those tall and finely painted walls and double-screened windows. She and her boyfriend recently moved in a fancy open space in Manhattan, where they could see the park by leaning from the terrace in E97 Street, and Stevie was there, politely having conversation with a colleague of her. Talking about her job, her boss finally gave her the promotion she had been waiting since three years. That would have meant to postpone the holidays she and Stevie had planned, but no problem at all, the house she inherited from a old aunt was not about to go anywhere.

She finally looked at the ceiling, to rest her eyes from that lushness. A design lamp with the shape of a cluster of grapes stuck firmly over their heads.

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