“I need to consult the Vision,” I said, running my hand along the rocky backsplash he’d picked out.
We stood at the end of Aisle Fifty-Two. A steel storage rack stocked with packaged tiles towered over us.
These are really nice — but they need to match.
The tile had left my fingers chalky. I wiped them on my black shorts. Several cream-colored streaks stayed behind.
“I bet cleaning this backsplash would be a bitch,” I said, fetching my phone from my pocket.
He mumbled a reply, but I’d already moved on.
The familiar, AI-rendered vision board topped my phone’s Favorites album. I zoomed into the kitchen for further analysis. Nope — the textured faux stone didn’t match.
“This won’t work.”
He shrugged and continued browsing the tile selection. I followed him.
The Vision remained in hand.
I’d need it.
/
I leaned into my new credenza. It slid across the floor, finding the baseboard with a thud.
I stepped behind the couch to admire it. My butt bumped into the dining chair the cat had torn to shreds.
The dark acacia looked fantastic beside the also-new walnut coffee table and the also-also-new faux olive tree — just like the Vision said it would.
I grabbed the measuring tape from the counter to check its alignment with the accent wall.
Seven point five inches on the left, eight inches on the right.
Nope — that’s not right.
I nudged the credenza an infinitesimal amount to the right.
The grinding noise woke the dog. She took one look at the new piece of furniture and bolted from the room.
Stepping back, I didn’t need the measuring tape to know I’d shifted it too much.
I gripped the top of the credenza and pulled it a quarter inch, if that, back to the left.
Perfect — finally.
I spotted the pile of electronics from the old media center on the floor, then looked back at our newest addition.
Now to organize it.
/
“We could do all this for just ten thousand dollars!”
I had my laptop in my lap, my feet on his quads, and my back against the stiff armrest. This couch definitely wouldn’t win any awards for comfort — but it matched the aesthetic.
I flipped the computer around for him to see.
He entertained the Vision’s plans for our dining room for the millionth time.
“That looks nice.”
Pleased, I clicked back into my shopping tab.
I’ll revisit the renovation later.
I typed the words 10” wide decorative stone sculpture into the search bar. The website returned over two thousand results.
On the second page, I found a potential winner. $53 for a decorative chain isn’t bad at all — especially for stone.
I opened the product page. The dimensions lived in the right sidebar.
Its four-inch height made the chain a real contender. Its ten-and-a-half-inch width immediately disqualified it.