Her eyes widened and narrowed intermittently as she listened to him speak... no other muscle so much as twitched on her face as the words processed in her brain. It was actually a rather eerie thing to gaze upon, vacant eyes which showed no recognition of her own kind, a yellow as bright as the sunshine that she would never again see... hair as flame red as the fire for which she would eternally be fearful... translucent skin which had the veins not shown through, might have even been almost attractive.

As soon as he lifted from her poor Mother, she was on her knees beside the chair in an instant, stroking the gentle velvety texture of the upholstery, murmuring apologizes, her cheek resting against the arm of the chair. Her hand dropped the anti-persperant back in the basket, arms wrapping around the sides and back of the chair... her poor dear mother.

No other chair in the room classified, but this one with it's high and delicately arched back, upholstered in the finest of fabrics, a soft velour velvet... intricately carved legs. It was the kind of chair that someday would be contained within a glass case in a museum... no other chair in the room mattered quite as much as Shimmer's dear mother did.

Content and settled, convinced that her mother was alright from her traumatic experience, Shimmer sat on the floor next to her, cheek still resting against her dear mother's arm and looked up at the man expectantly... ready to hear more stories now.

"You can sit... just never again on my mother."