Tina rapped her fingers on the counter top with closed eyes and furrowed brow, deep in thought. Perfection, she finally whispered to herself. The most befitting word to describe this precise instant in time. The golden light of the dusk sky poured in through the windows on the west side of the house, such that everything was bathed in a gentle, bronzed glow. Even the floating dust shimmered like fine gold, dancing in the rays cutting across the living room. Bette was on a lounge chair in the patio, furiously typing away on her brand new laptop. An occasional gust would whip through the kitchen, filling it with a balmy air heady with the scent of her blossoming rosemary. And thats where she was–in the kitchen, preparing the evenings meal. A lazy grin crept along her lips as she inhaled slowly and just absorbed the serenity of the moment. The soft yet incessant clacking of the laptop keys which had lulled her into her present trance suddenly stopped and Bette poked her head around the doorframe. Tina instinctively turned her head to Bettes questioning face.

Can you help me out here?

Tina replaced the lid over the pot simmering on the stove as she nodded her head. Grasping two glasses of chilled wine she stepped onto the patio and settled herself in the lounge chair next to Bettes. Bette turned back to her laptop, adjusting the screen to minimize the glare and pointing to her quandary with a single, slender finger. Tina sipped her wine, mesmerized by the honeyed skin covering tiny muscles which flexed and twitched with such graceful precision. Her eyes trailed along to the wrist, where baby blue veins bulged with every movement, then upward to the outstretched arm, sinewy and strong. Her gaze continued exploring the amber glow of shoulders and neck, the elegant curve of the chin, the plump lips parting to speak, every so often allowing a glimpse of the rose-colored tongue.

Im stuck on this sentence: Mr. DeFoes work seeks to deconstruct the way in which we view our world, to challenge our perceptions, encouraging us to see beauty in situations and images that society may deem base. However, through his vision and brush, they can be

Bette crossed her arms and sat back, staring intently at the screen and sighing. Tina continued studying the soft incline of her nose, how the nostrils flared slightly with Bettes impatient breathing. Suddenly, deep chocolate eyes met hers, simultaneously expectant and curious. Tina raised a hand, extended her arm and twirled a stray curl, richly brown and downy soft, around her own finger. She pushed it away from the wrinkled brow and tucked it, ever so gently, behind an exquisitely sculpted ear.

Perfection, Tina said with a ghost of a smile, absolute perfection.