Walking down the slightly curved staircase that leads down to the house’s slightly curved main corridor is The Man of the House. He is wearing an oversized, broad-shouldered, 40’s style light brown tweed suit with matching Windsor-style knotted tie and impeccable wingtip type, white and brown, two-tone leather shoes. Both the slightly curved staircase and main corridor are located underneath a huge skylight in the shape of a shallow arch, and by the slightly curved, convex-from-inside, continuous, floor-to-ceiling concrete block wall that separates it from the outside.

The air in the staircase is clinical, the staircase’s finishes precise, the staircase’s surfaces spotless. The level of lighting, showroom-grade.

The huge skylight is, actually, simply a reflection, same width and length, of the staircase and corridor beneath it. The Man of the House stops mid-flight and looks up beyond the soaring, white walls to the skylight. The cloudless sky beyond the glass, it all seems to indicate, is clear summer blue. He stares at it for a moment. He then looks back down and continues his descent toward the ground floor.

The amount, type and location of your everyday domestic item in every space, exact. Planned. Brainstormed. Committeed.

Permanent.

Standing before a prime example of a vast expanse of minimalistic, precision-crafted casework in the kitchen, and holding a glass baking tray in her hands, is The Pretty Amazing Housewife. She is wearing a 40’s style, just-under-the-knees-length, nine-fresh-water-pearl-buttoned, red-and-white, candy-stripe, cotton seersucker dress with wide, notched collar and short sleeves, and a pocket at each hip with one over the left breast. A red, “better-grade” web elastic belt with “smart”, real leather trim. Impeccable, stacked heel, lace-up, red leather oxfords. The kitchen is located on the ground floor, by the slightly curved, concave-from-inside, continuous, floor-to-ceiling glass curtain wall that separates it from the outside.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The air in the kitchen is clinical, the kitchen’s finishes precise, the kitchen’s surfaces spotless. The level of lighting, showroom-grade.

She reaches for the top shelf to put away the glass baking tray. She can’t reach it. She stretches on tip toe as hard as she can, but it is still just beyond her anatomical reach. She desists, then just stands there, holding on to it with both hands.

The amount, type and location of your everyday domestic item in every space, exact. Planned. Brainstormed. Committeed.

Permanent.

Sitting in her bedroom at the edge of her queen-size bed and staring at the ceiling is The Angst-Ridden Teenage Daughter. She is wearing fuzzy, baggy, beige sweatpants, white sock with wooly-from-use light grey sole; fuzzy, baggy, olive green hoodie, light brown sock with wooly-from-use dark-brown sole. The bedroom is located upstairs, by the slightly curved, concave-from-inside, continuous, floor-to-ceiling glass curtain wall that separates it from the outside.

The air in the bedroom is clinical, the bedroom’s finishes precise, the bedroom’s surfaces spotless. The level of lighting, showroom-grade.

She considers going to the bathroom. She glances over at the bathroom door. She decides that it’s too far away. She turns her head back at the ceiling and stares.

The amount, type and location of your everyday domestic item, exact. Planned. Brainstormed. Committeed.

Permanent.

Laying in its crib in the master bedroom is The Heir-Apparent Newborn Son. His expression is peaceful. About nine months in on his elated existence, he’s sleeping, just as he was a little over nine months ago, and his expression is peaceful.

The air in the master bedroom is clinical, the master bedroom’s finishes precise, the master bedroom’s surfaces spotless. The level of lighting showroom-grade.

He just lays there, face up, eyes closed, within the rails of the crib they’ve reposed him in, across from the king-size and the dresser and the armchair and the slightly concave-from-inside, continuous, floor-to-ceiling glass curtain wall with the clear blue skies behind it.

The amount, type and location of your everyday domestic item, exact. Planned. Brainstormed. Committeed.

Permanent.

The music everywhere inside the house – the omnipresent, louder-than-life music permeating every cubic inch of the inside of the house -- is the song ‘Sidewinder’ by Lard from their 1997 LP Pure Chewing Satisfaction.