Eloise
Naturally, once my jaw drops I find it all but impossible to pick it back up again. The lights that Dominic turned on belong to the pool itself—pearly lights with undertones of lavender, rose pink, and jade green. On the bottom of the pool is a painting which I recognize as The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo. I wonder if Dominic's friend saw the painting for all its glory in the Sistine Chapel in Vatican City or, if like myself, he fell in love with the painting after studying it from afar. I know the hands nearly touching have lost some of their aura through internet humor, but the painted image of them gives me chills as I stare at their details at the bottom of the pool.
"Now I really want to say a bad word," I comment.
The pool takes up most of the room—there is about five
