Penny For Your Thoughts?

First

"I remember I used to sit on this chair in the foyer. A beautiful chair it was. Nice velvet, little golden embroidered things on the stitching. Above it was a painting of flowers. I couldn't tell you the name now, but I would read it over and over again in my head when I sat there. No window. No book. Just me, my chair, and my painting," I watch as she looks at the window with her glossy, hazel eyes. Almost like she was reliving that time.

"That's beautiful," I reply, softly. She turns to me and nods with a bright smile. Her golden teeth were shown, but at least they were still her's.

"Do you like art?" She asks. I think for a moment. I think of his olive colored skin. I think of the way his dark eyebrows pull together and his thin beard moves as he bites his lip in an attempt to be seductive. I almost laugh at the thought. He was a living art piece.

"I love it,"