rshort1202

I am outside with some others. We are following a middle aged British lady to a house that must be hers. We nonchalantly ascend an impossibly steep staircase as she tells us about the house. I make a comment about the architecture, in admiration of it. I also tough the black façade (it’s steeply inclined, almost 90 degrees) and rock on my heels to put weight on whatever I’m standing on, finding it to feel hollow and not altogether sturdy seeming. We are inside the large house now. I think the others are some of my coworkers and we’re staying in a room with one of the residents. Mine is a girl, maybe in her teens. This room is large, upstairs, and completely baroque. The color scheme seems to be greys and dark wood, but every surface is ornamental, sculpted, or decorated. There is a shelf along the entirety of the far wall that is set with china as if for a meal. I find it odd at first but then come to like the idea. The bed is in the center of the room and impeccably made. The feeling is somewhat sterile, but maybe more so refined and elegant. I see Eric in the room across the hallway. I go over and close either his door or the door to this room, hoping he doesn’t find it suspicious. I say something that the girl takes sexually?, which puts me off because this is not at all how I meant it.