Aqua Sculptured Pile, 1966

1964, New York: In the store, her fingers danced over the pile, the rich sculptured pile. And the color was that of the sea on the atoll near Fiji.  Did she dare spend the money?  Would Billy Baldwin strike her from his little black book?  Would Lars see the beauty, or return to Oslo and forget her.  She looked at the salesman.  "Send your measures to this address tomorrow. Helga will be making lutefisk for five-hundred.  She's let you in.  And make sure it's this color.  I want it to be this shade. If it isn't this shade, the installer will have to eat the lutefisk."

2010, New York: The Realtor walks through the empty Manhattan Duplex, barking orders to the Daughter and Son as to how Realtor will sell the apartment.  "Every room painted gray.  Go to McGill's and tell them to paint the rooms and woodwork Light Ennui Gray. It is neither too bright nor too dark -mirthless - buyers aren't put off by the color.  I want everything to blend together.  And this carpet. It is a shame it is like new. Burn it. Destroy it as it did her to the very marrow of her soul." 

1980, Oslo, Norway: The Father explains to his son and daughter why he left: "Your mother could only love one thing, and that was the carpet."