Josephine Hamilton's Observation Of The Primeval Plantation House

She sighed as she observed the primeval plantation house. Her parents had never been humble people, as they owned an abnormally large home, and an even larger waterfront summer house on the coast of eastern South Carolina. She was quite familiar with the house, as her parents used to drag her to it for months every summer for what they called a vacation, though she found it more like torture. That was years ago, back when her mother and father were both still together – and alive. Her mother had passed away nine years prior to alcohol poisoning and her father bit the dust less than seven days ago, of natural causes so they said, but the only thing Josephine was even remotely sad about was how old-fashioned the decor was. In her father’s will he had left the house to her, Josephine Hamilton, with only one request, or warning rather: It is a cautionary notice that the owner of the house does not under any circumstance make changes or alterations to the house. Though, the minute the house was under her name, she contacted every professional

I 'm Ms. Josephine Hamilton, as you probably know. Thank you for coming. I 've called you here so you can hopefully repair this mess," she gestured to the room with disgust. She walked forward, curls bouncing and showed the men where everything is on the first floor, as they are not permitted under any circumstance to set foot on the second floor, for that is her own personal dwelling. She led them into the living room. "Now, I want this room to have wall-to-wall white carpeting with a gold trim. Please rid me of these putrid pink flooring. You can tear down the walls and rip up the floors and start anew, I don 't really care. Just fix this mess." She walked out of the room, her heels clicking on the tile floor with each step. "There are pastries and finger sandwiches in the dining room if you feel hungry!" she called. The men either rolled their eyes or scoffed to each other, but commenced their work