When they sat at the table, nothing was said. The same went when the bowl of noodles was passed around, and when their mother came in with their brother, who she was practically leading by the shoulder. Even though he was quiet in a verbal sense, he wasn't in a mental one—meal-time had, for the last two weeks, been quite different. Other than the two extras, and Lazeer being too sick to eat while being in the dining room, one of their own had spent most of his meal hours in his room. This was by their brother's choice, not by punishment or request. They had understood his decision in doing this.

"We adopted the routine of sitting by age at the table after dad "claimed" us in 4099." Lhaklar thought after passing the bowl of noodles to his father.

Yes, but their mother was the only one to still be sitting in her, their thought and fully believed, appropriate chair, which was at the head of the table. On a normal day, it'd be Bile, he, and Guyunis who'd sit on her left; Hazaar would sit across from Guyunis while Lazeer would sit beside him. They no longer sat like this. Hazaar was required to move over a slot several days ago; Lazeer, on the day that he felt well enough to eat while being at the table, found that Hazaar's chair was where his use to be and that his own was now closer to their mother's. This change was caused by their father, who did a spell to make two, additional chairs, that looked very identical to the original six that were picked out for the room's dark brown, rustic oak table, for him and Eshal to sit in.

After making them two chairs, the man made the decision to take the one that sat on the opposite side of the table from their mother. Eshal made the decision to side on his right.

They had eaten their meals in this order for all of a week and a half: their mother at the table's head, Bile and he had continued sitting in their appropriate chairs, Guyunis's chair would be vacant, their father, Eshal, and then Hazaar. Guyunis and Lazeer were newly returned to the table—it was just four days ago when Lazeer made a return to eating while being at the table while it was three for Guyunis.

Naturally, when Guyunis made his return to the table, Bile and he were asked to move over a chair. Their brother, who would sit in the chair that he was in, was too nervous to partake in the consumption of his meals while being seated beside their father—who, technically, was his nephew. Guyunis, for the last three days, was taking his meals in while being seated beside their mother. Neither he nor Bile had griped over the sudden change in seating arrangements; they were all too willing to move over.

"There you are," their mother said after their adopted brother took his seat at the table. Once Guyunis was seated, she went to her chair.

Their mother sat down then waited for the bowl of noodles to get to her. She had gotten Eshal to help her in making that night's meal—and, by "help", he really meant that his older sister just stood by her shoulder. Eshal, who was two thousand, five hundred, and two years old, didn't know how to cook, so she was really no help in that little area. He didn't know if it was funny or sad; his sister was five hundred and one years older than he yet she didn't know how to cook. Here he was, two thousand, one hundred, and two years of age, and he knew how to cook a full-course meal while she didn't.

"Dad, following his talk with mom, stayed in the living room for most of the rest of the day." Lhaklar thought after placing some meat on his noodles.

After speaking with their mother on their smoking habits, and on the posters that had been, and were still, in the room that they made last year, he didn't feel like doing much of anything but sit and watch tv. Even when their mother, and Eshal, were making supper, the man remained in that room. The idea of the man pulling the "pout" routine had crossed his mind a few times over the hours; he had sure acted poutish after speaking to their mother on the issues that he did. Their mother had, obviously, put her foot down on them issues; he was still wondering if his father wasn't really a big kid—he wasn't acting very "adult" today.

Nothing but bills had come in the mail. Their mother had spent most of four hours either on the phone, paying what bills she could, or counting out money that would be sent via the mail to the companies that she couldn't send payment to by phone. Their father had watched her from the corner of his eye the entire time but he hadn't said a word to her and she, likewise, hadn't said a word to him. He knew right off the bat, though, that his father was waiting for some sort of word to be spoken to him—after coming down to give his mother the envelope that he put the money that he earned via dancing the stages of the Die Heiß und Hastig, a strip club that was in the nearby city of Karlsruhe, he had noticed the "pleading" look that was on his father's face. His father had, obviously, been waiting for a chance of redemption with their mother. She had kept him waiting; up to calling everyone to the table for supper, she hadn't said a word to him.

With nothing of real deal interest being in the mail, and with the phone being quiet all day, and with there being nothing to do, they either sat in their rooms, listening to music, or looking at the magazines that they got last month, or went down to the room that came off the basement. Even Lazeer "stole" away to that room; their father had either not seen him or, if he did, he said nothing on his involvement in lifting weights or "looking at posters that were inappropriate for one of his age".

"What'd we all do today?" their mother, who, they knew, had only spoken to break the silence that was in the room, asked.

"The usual," Lhaklar replied. "Spent some time in The Cave, then went to spend some time with Astor before coming home."

"Made a list of things that I'll be needing to get in the next few days, then went out with the Wildcat." Hazaar said.

"Same on the list thing." Lazeer said. "Also listened to some music, and watched a movie."

"When's tha-k-t movie you and Lhaklar saw in February coming out?" Guyunis asked Lazeer.

"Good question—probably in another two to four months." Lazeer replied.

"Wrote in my diary, then tried to drone out the noise that Lazeer was listening to." Eshal said.

"Hey! Bob Marley's not noise!" Lazeer exclaimed.

"Went to Angus's place," Bile said. "We decided to meet-up with Aubin and his sister in downtown Au am Rhein fifteen minutes after my arrival."

"What'd you four do after you got there?" their mother asked.

"Not sure what Abelle did—she fled right after we got there. Angus, Aubin, and I did plenty of girlfriend shopping."

"You what?"

And, like that, their father became involved in the conversation. Bile's mention of girlfriend shopping wasn't anything serious; oh, he and his friends might of checked out the girls but they hadn't done anything. From what he was told a few hours ago, Bile, Angus, and Aubin did nothing but stand beside a brick building. They smoked a few cigarettes, then spoke and vented out their present issues, then made plans to meet up at the town's local theater. The three had an interest in seeing a movie that was to start being shown tomorrow.

Their father had, obviously, not seen the joke-like nature of Bile's comment on girlfriend shopping.

"What?" Bile asked their father.

"Did I just hear that you were shopping for a girlfriend with a few friends of yours?" their father asked.

"Yes, but—" Bile started to say.

"And you said that posters like what's in that room that's in the basement won't cause trouble." their father said in an accusing tone to their mother.

"Tazir," their mother said. "Bile didn't say what he said in a serious tone. He was joking."

"Huh?"

"Uh, well, I'll admit that we glanced at a few girls that were walking in our general area but, yeah, we weren't really shopping for a girlfriend or anything." Bile said.

"And there's nothing wrong in doing that." their mother said.

"Angel!"

"Tazzy, come on now. I bet that, when you were Bile's age, you did plenty of looking yourself."

TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, the creator of the juices that aided in the creation of most of the children that were at the table, said nothing in return. What his wife said was true. Yes, he, at Bile's age, had glanced at the ladies that were in his general area. When he was a pupil at Shlane's Academy, Zeta Ren's School of Hard Knots, The School of Gray, The University of Power, and The Academy of Evil, he did plenty of looking at both his fellow female classmates and the female professors; after attending them educations, he continued to look at the ladies that were around him.

TazirVile smiled then went back to his plate of spaghetti—he had forgotten how good his wife's cooking was, and he had also forgotten how good her spaghetti was. He was, in a sense, savoring every bite that he ate.

"G, what'd you do today?" their mother asked Guyunis.

"Read a few novels, then lis-k-tened to some music." Guyunis replied.

"Who has the room that's across the hall then three down from mine?" Eshal asked.

"Me," Guyunis said.

"You torturing any animals? Heard a lot of cat noises coming from... your room today." Eshal asked.

He and his brothers snickered then went quiet. Of course Eshal was hearing "cat noises" coming from Guyunis's bedroom! Guyunis had a kitten who, for the last two weeks, hadn't been allowed to roam as freely as she use to. Guyunis only allowed her to roam when their father and Eshal were out of the house, either walking around the backyard, or standing on the porch, or collecting the mail. The cat was cooped up and she was voicing her annoyance over it. Neither their mother, or Guyunis, or any of them had said a thing about the cat being in the house... the same went with Hazaar and Lazeer having their pet turtles, frogs, and salamanders. They wanted their sister and father to find out about them on their own. Guyunis, they knew, was nervous about what their father and sister would do, or say, after seeing/finding out about his having a cat.

"No," Guyunis answered after glancing at their father, then at their mother, then looking at Eshal.

"Kept thinking that I heard cat noises this morning as well." their father said. The man said nothing more for a few minutes; he ate a few forkfuls of his spaghetti, got a "pleased" look to the face with each bite and then swallow, then wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking again. "Noticed that Lhaklar was putting a lot of produce in the fridge earlier. Someone in the family a health freak, or was that bought for another reason?"

"While some of us like eating an occasional, raw fruit and vegetable, we don't really indulge in full-on healthy eating." their mother answered.

"Then, what's the point in you buying all that produce?"

"Do a little exploring instead of planting your behind on the living room couch and you'll find out."

"Oooooooo!"

TazirVile smiled at his wife's words then started the process of taking a gander at the youngsters that were at the table. He started with the child that was to his right; along with being the oldest of his children, she was his only daughter.

Eshal, who was given the name of EshalVile Eskara Surfeit, but who went by plain Eshal by pretty much everyone that she came in contact with, was born out of his first wife, Bespe Rakaduc. His only daughter stood five foot, four inches; she had light blue skin and very feminine, cat-like eyes that were a pretty, green color. The pupil, that sat in their centers, was a normal, black color. Like all of his biological children, she had suction cups on the tips of each of her fingers. Her face had a heart-shaped mouth, a small nose, and high cheek bones in it. Her hair ran all the way down her back; except for the bangs, which were a purple, it was a pretty, light blue color. She was wearing a green, wrap blouse and black leggings. The low-heeled shoes, that were on her feet, were a dark green color. His daughter wore no makeup; he had forbade her from using the stuff until she got older.

"And then we have Hazaar beside her."

His secondborn son, who was given the name of HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, but who, he presumed, went by plain Hazaar by everyone that he knew or came in contact with, was incorrectly gendered all throughout his wife's pregnancy. During the routine ultra-sound, in his excitement over finally being able to have surviving children with his wife, he jerked his hand then exposed what he and his wife thought were their unborn's genitalia. Instead of being called Hazaar during the eight and a half months that he was in the womb, he was called Phloowa. He was more than a little shocked to see a penis and testicles after the birth. The name chosen for his son was actually a re-working of what his father said after his birth; after the man said Hoozah, his wife exchanged the two O's for A's and the final H with an R. He was the one to give Hazaar his middle name.

Hazaar stood five foot, eleven inches. Along with having dark blue skin, he had a lean body build. Hazaar's head was shaped much like Lhaklar's—an upside down, teardrop. Like Lhaklar, he had two holes where a nose would normally be and an O-shaped mouth. His son's eyes were differently colored, and shaped, than his firstborn's; they were both a rather shiny, deep purple color and were of the wrap-around sort. Like Eshal and Lhaklar, Hazaar had suction cups on the ends of each of his fingers. Unlike Lhaklar, who had no hair on his head, Hazaar had a four and a half inch long deep purple rattail sticking out from the back of his head. Hazaar was wearing a brown shirt that was tucked into a pair of multi-brown pants that were faded slightly at the knees but were greatly faded in the thigh regions. The shoes, that were on his feet, were brown; they had light brown laces on them. Hazaar was one thousand, seven hundred, and two years old.

"Got 'em good, mom!" Lazeer, who smacked five with Hazaar after their mother said something on his exploring the house instead of sitting in the living room, exclaimed.

Lazeer had no idea how much of a scare he and his mother went through when he was born. Along with being born prematurely, the doctors didn't want to put in the effort to make him stronger. In all, he spent three and a half weeks in the hospital being being "green-lit" to go home.

Angel actually left his abode four months after Lazeer was born. Her father had threatened to take her from her sons after their youngest was born; by his doing that, he scared her enough to flee and to take the boys with her. If not for his wife's constant care, their youngest son wouldn't be in the house or at the table with them now.

Lazeer, despite his premature birth, was a right healthy thing. Along with being six feet tall, he had a lean, and strong, body build. His skin complexion was periwinkle-blue. The shiny, silver-colored eyes, that were in his upside down, teardrop-shaped head, were circular in shape. Lazeer didn't have a full head of hair, nor did he sport a rattail or was bald; instead, he sported a single, horizontal row of brick-red hair that went from one side of his head to the other. The row of hair was both bristly in appearance and two-inches in width. While his son's hair wasn't dull by any means, it didn't glow like his mother's. His youngest son's facial features were much like Lhaklar's and Hazaar's—he had two holes where a nose would normally be and an O-shaped mouth. Like his sister and brothers, he had suction cups on the ends of each of his fingers. Lazeer was wearing a dark gray mesh shirt and a pair of dark brown pants that were torn at the knees. The pair of multi-brown and gray shoes, that were on his feet, had dark gray ties on them.

His son, earlier that day, was wearing a flexible bandage around the left side of his face. Upon his anger-induced, hurried entrance to the planet, the glass window, that was in Lazeer's bedroom, burst inwards and Lazeer, who claimed to be pinned to the floor at the time, wasn't able to get out of the way of the glass or raise his hands to protect himself. The gash, that went across his son's eye, was out and in the open; as if the gash wasn't bad enough, the left side of his son's face was also very badly bruised. He was trying to keep his son from removing the bandage that he, for the last two weeks, was applying to the injured half of his face; Lazeer, like all male children, was either being stubborn or was insistent on toughing it out. Lazeer was one thousand, six hundred, and two years old. His full name was LazeerVile Zuluduz Surfeit; he presumed that he had everyone that either knew or came in contact with him call him Lazeer.

"What programs caught your fancy today, dad?" Bile asked.

"Nothing more than the news... and the crappy soaps that come on after the news." TazirVile replied.

"Give him a dust pan and feather duster, ma! Them soaps will have him transformed into a woman in no time."

Bile, though regarded as one of his children, was actually sired by his nephew. Vile, or, as he continued to want to be called, Master Vile, was both the father of this young man and his mother; despite this, he didn't act very fatherly towards neither of them. With the boy being raised under his roof since birth up to when he was removed after Lazeer was born, he saw himself as his father figure; Bile was regarded as his stepson from birth up to four hundred years and six months then, after he adopted him, he started calling him a full-on son.

His oldest son was quite tall at six foot, three inches. His big, strong body matched his height perfectly—if he had to make any guesses on what he weighed, he'd have to say that he was over two hundred pounds... and none of that was fat either. Bile's appearance resembled his birth-father's; along with being bi-colored, with his left side being yellow and his right being green, his elongated ears ran half the length of his shoulders. His ears, while being dark green in color, had a series of light green, Tiger-like stripes on them. His eyes were a glowing, yellow-green color; the pupils, that were in their centers, were black.

Bile was wearing a pair of dark brown pants. His matching shirt had some rips and tears in the chest and stomach areas. The pair of dark brown boots, that were on his feet, looked pretty heavy. Bile was two thousand, two hundred, and two years old.

"No sir, I don't think so. Not anytime soon." TazirVile said.

"Yeah, let's keep you as being the gender that you are." Angel said. "If you turned into a woman, I'd be out of husband."

"And neither you nor I want that."

He and his wife laughed then silence was achieved at the table. After five minutes of uninterrupted silence occurred, he looked at the kid that was the cause of him and his family still being on Earth.

Up to two weeks ago, he didn't know his name or association with the family. He just took him as someone bullying his sons, and causing them harm and grief in their "stressed" lives of "bachelorhood". He, like everyone else in his family, was floored after finding him in the residence with his family... they were also floored after learning his age, identity, and, of course, parentage.

The quiet and nervous kid, that was seated beside his wife, was his wife's adopted son. Along with having skin that was as black as could be, he had a set of eyes that were both a bright-glowing, yellow color and were shaped like scalene triangles. The kid was quite burly, with the greatest muscle build-up being on his arms, chest, shoulders, and back—most, of which, was heavily covered in bandaging. Like his sire, he had a more "slender" build from the waist on down. Along with being a good, six foot, three and a half inches tall, he had a set of badly cracked, dark gray fingernails on each of his fingers. His dark face had a snub-like nose, thin to medium-sized lips, a square-shaped jaw, and a slightly rough brow in it. The hair, that was on his head, was a nice, shiny, black color; it went way past his shoulders.

The kid was wearing just three things: a pair of black jeans, that went down to just below his knees, and that were pretty well ripped in the upper thigh regions; a pair of brown boots, that looked rather heavy; and the remnants of a blue hoodie. The hood part of the garment that was draped over his shoulders was the only thing remaining on the piece. Other than the material garments, he had a series of chains on himself. One was wrapped around his neck loosely; it connected to the strand that ran around his shoulders and chest. Another was short; it ran down from the one that ran around his shoulders then connected with the chain belt that was around his waist.

The youngster's name was Guyunis... or, more specifically, GuyunisVile Lytro Surfeit. He was one thousand, nine hundred, and one years old. His mother was a woman named Lisa Ann Wahlberg while his father was... well, the man who was responsible for this kid was his own grandfather—ShaamVile Kondee Surfeit. Since the kid was his father's half-brother, that automatically made him his uncle. From what he was able to observe, the kid was right attached to his wife and sons; it looked like both of his blood-parents had decided to abandon him. Guyunis's mother had given him up for adoption right after he was born while Guyunis's father... well, he acted downright unfavorable towards him. Instead of accepting the fact of siring an illegitimate son, his grandfather roared about the kid's name needing to be changed, about Angel needing to send him back to the orphanage, and about her and her sons needing to forget about him. When none of them instructed things were done, his grandfather got mad then stormed out of the residence. As far as he knew, no one had heard a thing from him since.

He had already made a point several hundred years ago about how, if he found his wife with any other children that were sired by anyone other than himself, he wasn't going to split her from any of them. Even though he was annoyed over having to stay on the planet for six months, he was willing to do so—Guyunis, though big and burly, was a youngster... who had very nervous side to himself. For the first week of his and his daughter's stay in the residence, he had either steered clear or tip-toed around them. He had also obscured his facial features by wearing his hoodie. Either Guyunis had gotten use to them being in the residence or he forgot about putting his hood up. This was the first time since his and Eshal's residency in the house that he had seen the kid walk around with his hood down.

"This is quite good, Angel." TazirVile said. He pointed his fork at his half-full plate of spaghetti.

"Glad you like it." Angel replied. "Don't forget there's bread and cheese on the table—don't eat too much now, think you'll be disappointed if you do."

"What's for dessert, ma?" Bile asked.

"You'll find out after everyone's done eating." Angel replied.

"Think I'll take you up on the exploring thing in the next few days," TazirVile said to his wife. "Along with moving upstairs, I'll start with the room that you sleep in then—"

"Five euros says that his "exploring" won't be of the normal, room sort." Bile said.

"And that he'll not be leaving it after he goes in. With his going into that room, no one'll get any sleep." Lhaklar said. When his father looked at him sharply, he added, "The headboard being knocked against the wall will keep us up all night."

"Not unless I have say on that." Hazaar said.

"Ma doesn't need birth control when you're in the house." Bile chuckled.

If not for the conversation that he and his family had a few days ago, he would of started wondering if his sons didn't want him or their mother to be around one another and, if he didn't know how his secondborn was with his magazines, he'd be wondering if he wasn't straight. His sons were constantly picking on him and their mother whenever they saw them getting affectionate; most of the time, it was Bile and Lhaklar who picked on them but, from time to time, Lazeer would join in on the fun as well. Nine times out of ten, Hazaar was called in to separate them after the affections were noted. Hazaar would just rush in, get right in the middle of him and his mother, then say for them to go to other parts of the house. The first few times that his son did this, he was confused. The rest of the times that Hazaar did this, he went along with the joke. He and his wife went their separate ways only to resume their affections after the boys went to either their "Cave" or their bedrooms. Interestingly, Eshal was also saying how she wished that he and his wife would pipe down on the affections—she claimed that they were embarrassing her.

As far as he knew, all of his children were straight. They looked at or expressed an interest in the opposite gender and it looked like none of them had any interests in their own gender. A few days ago, after he asked his sons if there was anything wrong with him being around their mother, or if they didn't want him to be around their mother, they responded by saying that they were fine with them being around one another. They were just "fibbing" around, or trying to "crawl under" his and their mother's skin, was what they said.

While he tried to not over-indulge in feasting on the spaghetti that was before him, he feared that he did overdo it. Last year, after finding his wife and sons missing, he found it quite difficult to eat. There was no ambition or drive to eat; he had to push himself to eat, and to do other, normal-day activities. The consumption of his meals, and the task of doing simple, everyday things, became a little easier after his wife and sons' location was found; now that they were tracked down, and that he knew where they were, and now that he and Eshal were living under the same roof as they, he had no problems in eating or in doing simple, everyday tasks.

A decent-sized helping of spaghetti was placed on his plate. Some Parmesan cheese was added at the last second then a sprinkle of salt was added on top of that. He ate all of that with no problem before asking Bile to pass the bowl that had the garlic bread slices in it down to him; two slices of garlic bread were eaten before he decided to put a halt on consuming anything else. Eshal ate a seemingly similar supper to his while most of the boys had slightly smaller meals than them; Hazaar was the only one of his offspring to over-indulge in putting the cheese on his spaghetti.

"Don't think I need to be told that Hazaar's a cheese-lover." he said after everyone finished eating.

"Hazaar's not a cheese-lover," Lhaklar said. "He's a cheese-freak!"

"Monster is more like it." Lazeer said.

"If we had mice, or any other rodents roaming this place, we'd never be able to catch or kill them. We'd catch nothing in the traps because Hazaar would be the one taking the cheese blocks from them." Lhaklar said.

"Yes we would! Instead of catching a rodent in the traps, we'd catch one of Hazaar's fingers or his tongue. We'd wake to find him walking around with a trap snapped shut to one or more of his fingers, or with an adornment hanging from his tongue." Lazeer said loudly.

"Then we'd start asking 'was your need for cheese that damn bad' or 'was it worth it' or—" Lhaklar started to say.

"Up yours Greenie." Hazaar spat.

"Alright boys, that's enough." Angel, who had a tray that had a dark cake on it in her hands, said. She placed the tray on the table then went back to the kitchen; four bowls of ice cream were retrieved then brought to the table next.

"Ma..." Bile said.

"What's that?" Eshal asked. She pointed at the cake that was on the tray.

"Is tha-k-t what I think it is, mum?" Guyunis asked.

"Angel?" TazirVile said.

The cake was long and square in shape. While it had a dark coating of chocolate icing on it, there was also a lot of red and green decorations on its outer edges; there was a sprinkling of coconut between the decorations. The bowls of ice cream had either chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry ice cream in them. Angel went back to the kitchen for eight bowls and spoons then returned to the table; she neither said what the cake was or answered any of the questions that were asked.

The bakery at her place of work had received a lot of cakes today. There was just not enough room for them to all be put up or displayed so, in order to cut-down on the surplus cake inventory, some of the prices for some of the cakes were slashed in half. She grabbed the Inside Out German Cake after seeing its price of €12.50—Guyunis was the main one that she was thinking about when she took it; if there was something new and unexpected added to the table, he'd forget about his nervousness about her husband and adoptive daughter being in close proximity to him.

Instead of putting the cake on the table that was designated for the surplus cakes, she took it then stored it in the store's back. After punching out early, then doing the monthly grocery shopping, she went to get it. No one had said a thing after she brought it out from where it was and no one had said a thing over her buying it either. Her boss was just happy to be rid of the extra cakes; he didn't put on a face or blink an eye after seeing that she was leaving the store's back with it. She was the one to bring the cake in; she had wanted it to be a surprise and, from what she was seeing, everyone was surprised over seeing it.

"You know what that is, Guyunis?" her husband asked her son. She waited on baited breath to see if Guyunis would respond to his question or clam up.

"Think so," Guyunis replied. He stood up then went to the kitchen. When he came back, he had a serrated kitchen knife on him. As she sat at the table, he cut into the cake then took the first slice out. His face lit up at once. "It is! Mum..."

"Cut us some slices, G." Angel said. "We're all waiting."

"What is it?" Eshal asked.

"Inside Ou-k-t German Cake," Guyunis replied with no hesitancy at all.

A bowl of ice cream, then a piece and a half of cake, was eaten. He and Eshal had never eaten such a cake before in their lives—they only needed to take one bite to fall in love with the flavor. After they were done with eating, they stood then started making their rounds to the kitchen with the items that they had eaten their meal either on or with. Over the last two weeks, he and Eshal had learned that a routine was done after each meal was eaten. The plates, bowls, silverware, and anything that was used to cook the food either on or with was given a quick-washing then it was all placed on the right side of the sink. Either Angel or one of the boys would take care of the dishes the following day.

The dining room was, what he called, very sparsely furnished. Other than the table, and the eight chairs that came close to matching it, there was just a mahogany china cabinet that had a bowed front in the room. He thought that the three-tier, wooden spice rack, that was full of all sorts of spices that one used for cooking, was in-appropriately placed; instead of being placed in the dining room, it should of been placed in the kitchen. The kitchen was furnished like any other, basic kitchen.

A sleek, black microwave, that had a digital clock above the touch-sensitive buttons, was on the counter that came off the counter bar and the normal counter that was connected to the kitchen sink. A knife block, that had five, different sized knives in it, was on the edge of the counter bar. There was an electric can opener on the counter that was to the right of the stove; a coffee maker, that had a cutting board underneath it, was on the counter that was to the right of the stove. Something that his wife called an Oster Osterizer 14-speed blender was on the counter that was across from the kitchen sink. A dish drain, complete with under-tray, was beside the kitchen sink. A 4-slice toaster was on the counter beside the can opener.

The dining room, and kitchen, had dark cherry vinyl on their floor. The walls, and ceiling, of both rooms was a blue/gray color. The ceiling, that was in both rooms, was normal and flat in appearance. The kitchen counter-tops were volcanic rock quartz while the kitchen cabinets were an exotic, dark cherry Beech wood.

After all of the dishes and tableware were squared away, everyone dispersed in different directions. He went straight to the living room; with seeing how things went during supper, he decided that it was time to move his sleeping arrangements.

"There was no griping, groaning, or fussing when I mentioned the move, or exploring the room that Angel sleeps in..." he thought while going to the living room.

His suitcase, which was neatly stashed behind the sectional couch, was grabbed and then pulled out from its spot. With his suitcase in his possession, he left the room then made his way to the stairs. As far as he could tell, the entire house had red carpeting in it; with the exception of the living room, kitchen, and dining room, the house's walls and ceiling seemed to be a light cream color. When he reached the stairs, he saw that they were flush with the walls. No banister existed with them; if one needed something to aid them in balance, they'd have to lean against one of the walls. The walls on either side of the stairs had a series of framed photographs on them; even though he was curious about looking at them, he didn't stop to do so. There were a total of eleven steps to the stairs; he went up them quickly then started down the hallway that was on the second level. He stopped after going halfway down the hallway; in his excitement to finally be moving his sleeping arrangements from the living room to the room that his wife slept in, he had forgotten all about asking which room it was that she slept in. The only rooms that he had a good bearing on were the living room, kitchen, dining room, basement, the room that came off the basement, the spare room, and Eshal's room. He was clueless as to who all owned the other rooms that were on this level.

"Hazaar," he said after seeing his secondborn leaving the bathroom that was at the far end of the hall.

"Dad?" Hazaar said.

"Which room does your mother sleep in?"

"Two down from the stairs; right side of the hallway." his son replied.

"Thank you," he said. He went to the room that his son directed him to then, after a moment's pause, went in.