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.