It was the sort of place I might have expected:
a four-thousand-square-foot loft that occupied the top floor of a
nondescript building on Duane Street. Entering for the first time,
I was struck by its fashionable quality, the sense it
conveyed of attaching great value to design. Not that it
was cluttered, or indeed feminine in any way; no, if
anything it was a minimalist affair with finished cement floors
and pipes conspicuously fastened to the ceiling. But each piece
of furniture seemed perfectly curated — lit and positioned just so —
and the walls featured impressive and forceful works of art.
Paraphrases from the novel The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid.