Chapter Twenty-Two- Michael’s Christmas Eve

The address on the mailbox clearly read “148”. This home was gorgeous. Compared to the other houses on this block, it boasted a freshness apparent to the naked eye. Not built over a hundred years ago like the other neighboring homes, this house stood out without the aid of holiday decorations. The brickwork was immaculate, as was the crystal clear bay window that captured and then reflected the headlights of an oncoming car

The formal dining room featured a dining table made of glass sitting on a black marble pedestal. It looked as if it was just delivered within the last few days. The dining room chairs were also modern, with thick black cushions and upholstered arms. A grandfather clock ticked away in the far corner of the room. Although brand new, the clock still looked like a grandfather indeed owned it. The walls were covered with exquisite silver and black small print wallpaper that had recently been hung. The carpeting was a light beige Berber that looked as if it had never even been stepped upon. The dark oak door frame and cove molding woodwork were gorgeous. The furnishings in the living room were all brand new and distinctively modern. Sleek black leather chairs, brass accent pieces, stylish lamps, and large sofa-size paintings filled the room with a touch of elegance. The interior of the home was just as spectacular as the exterior.