The-Tea-Room

"So, that's how it is, eh?" I purred, nudging her hand that was wrapped around mine. She squeezed my hand, giggling. Here we were, laying on the unpolished wood floor. The oven, never dirtied before, sat upon said floor. Alongside it waited a pale fridge. This marked the excitement; the kitchen. The smell of drying white paint clung to squished walls, and a café colored carpet laid high without tread marks designated the living room. This carpet trailed past the teeny tiny bathroom, past a nameless room, to the other blank room. The room's drying paint created faces, some laughing, some weepy, some strange. They foretold what daybreak wa