The house was hers for a single hour , just the one magic hour , only hers. Apart from the low hum of the fridge and the occasional moaning of the pipes , the house was quiet. Florence was alone.
She held her red cotton sweater to her face and started to contemplate her life. Her dad was going to come back home today from his business trip. Her mother and her younger brother had gone to pick him up from the airpot.
Florence had decided to stay back in order to look after the house. As she sits down on her comfy sofa , she begins to think about the various obstacles in her life and how to deal with it.
Then suddenly a piercing sound interrupts her somewhat sentimental thoughts. As she walks towards the door , Florence encounters a tall , toned and muscular man. It was her dad. She greets him with a hug.
Her father's nature is very outgoing , impulsive and cheerful. He enjoys dancing , going to parties , being with lots of people and he spends his money carefully. Her mother on the other hand , is quiet , reserved , and controlled. She looks at things logically and practically , not giving into her emotions. She feels more comfortable with only one or two friends and is content reading spiritual books or meditating for recreation.
Florence on the other hand was much like her father. Her personality was her strength. However , just like her father, she had anger issues. Her father learned to control it as soon as he got into a stable relationship with Florence's mum but unfortunately for Florence, she never had a stable relationship.
