THE ARCHITECTS 

“It’s been four hours,” Rei said.  “We’ve been stood up.” 
“By a flatbed driver,” said Luisa.  “I gave up two hours ago.  You would think putting a whole house on a truck and moving it would not be something easily overlooked on their to-do list.”
“One would think.”
“I never liked this house anyway,” said Luisa.
“You’ve never said that!  Nine years!”
“It’s like a pair of glass cubes, stacked.”
“It was supposed to make us feel at one with the landscape,” Rei explained.  “Let’s go.  We’re not moving a house you don’t want.”
“I also never liked this climate,” said Luisa. “Can we live some place with seasons?  Tree buds, tulips, falling leaves, snow.  Icicles!”
“Have you been happy?” Rei asked.
“With you, yes.  With your house, not so much.”
“You’re designing our next house.”
“I will!  It will be made out of stone and last five hundred winters.”

. . .