𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞.

𝐨𝐧𝐞.

𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚

Our house was welcoming from the open door to the wide hallway. Upon the halls were the photographs of two children, a seventeen year old, and the other nineteen, away for college. The floor was a modern chevron pattern with a blend of deep, homely browns and the walls were cream meeting a bold white base-board. The banister was a twirl of a branch, tamed by the carpenter's hand, its grain flowing as water might, in waves of comforting woodland hues.

The house I lived in was undeniably beautiful; under the lamp-shine it was nature's art, something that soothed right to the soul. However, this was apparently not enough for my parents.

"So, let me get this right..." I started slowly, staring at the faces of my parents as we were sat on our enormous dining table, "you want to make the kitchen...bigger? Like, even bigger than it is now?"

"Well, yeah," said my dad, looking at my mum and smiling before looking back at me.

"Mum, you ca't possibly be okay with strangers coming in and out of our house all day for three months!" I whined.

"Of course I am, darling," my mum chuckled and sparkled her dazzling eyes at me, "I finally get that pantry I've been wanting."

Ah, yes. How could I forget the wretched pantry my mum had set her eyes on ever since she came to know about Kim fucking Kardashian's walk in pantry. A pantry I'm sure would cost well in the hundreds, who knows, maybe even the thousands, meanwhile

"People are dying," I stated, got up and walked out of the kitchen.

"We have dramatic children," I heard my dad say to my mum, followed by her laughter.