The images on the screen were exactly that.
Beige walls in each room, except for one shocking “accent wall” in each. A bold primary color that only pointed out how dull everything else was. Matching tan couches and chairs, shelves and end tables that held bland trinkets, arrangements of candles in neutral colors, and not much else. Even the kitchen was oddly devoid of evidence that anyone lived there, with spotless gray granite countertops, an empty drying rack, and blue dishtowels hanging at perfect angles.
Dana wouldn’t have been surprised if the row of white cabinets with black handles only held empty boxes inside.
“Yeah, my realtor tried to get me interested in the glories of suburban living,” she said. “My style is apparently more like a hundred-year-old bungalow that always needs.
