Amicable
“I'm sorry. I can only serve you the cheap ones,” the woman shyly told me the moment I had finally stepped into the living room of their house. "No, that's totally okay," I told her right away, feeling quite troubled over her worried voice, "Anything you have will actually do. Don't worry, I'm not that picky with drinks." The woman smiled at my words as she turned and disappeared to the kitchen area and I was left in the living room, standing awkwardly. I soon started looking around and finally noticed the entire look of the house inside. The dim-lit interior was nothing but an ordinary conventional space designed for a simple middle-class family. It was even almost empty if not for a few worn-out furniture placed at random small spaces around it. I casually took note of everyth
- Writer
