Stoic, severe, Scandinavian. Appallingly clean and neat. Sleek. Sunlight streaming in from industrial loft windows. Yet somehow warm and inviting. Was it the brilliance or the offsetting curves: a sofa, a spacious enveloping futon, an armchair, a bureau, an S-shaped marble counter, curvilinear lighting sconces. A white zigzagging banister leading nowhere. One floor. Open plan. One long and deep closet with a sliding glass door. Jeans, sweaters, dress shirts, dresses, one gown, coats, scarves, fedoras, trousers, pants, a single bathrobe (black). Posing as a museum, featuring an installation of nine lambent votive candles and Gregorian chant intoned from Bose speakers.
Footsteps, the soft rasp of a key in the lock, the jiggling of the door handle.
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