Alex frowned, looking past the Angel's skeletal frame, squinting to carefully observe the kitchen area behind him. When he returned home yesterday afternoon, his mind was completely filled with dreamy thoughts about the ball, Chelsea's letter, and Joshua's memoir, so he had just kept his head down and walked straight upstairs, not paying attention to his surroundings.
Looking closely now, the kitchen, which used to be poor and barren, with only a small, blackened old coal stove and a cracked cutting board, had completely changed its appearance. It was scrubbed clean and equipped with new items shining so brightly it dazzled the eyes.
The layout of the large items in the kitchen space remained roughly the same; the dining table and the stove were still in their old positions, but on the shelves and cabinets, there were many more daily utensils that their house never had before, filling every empty space neatly and purposefully.
