In Saving the Imperfect

1. The perfect was among us

The man leaned against a wall and enjoyed the sound of wind knocking at the windows. Sparse raindrops tapped at the glass but inside, there was nothing more than warmth and coziness.

The man, Layne Marks, counted to thirty in his head, making pauses after each number.

Thirty.

It was time to continue the show. He straightened his back and marched towards the door, making sure his footsteps were loud and clear.

"Rissa, where are you?" Layne called as he entered the living room.

Although small, it was clear that this place was getting just as much love, if not more, as the rest of the flat. Dozens of colourful cushions on leather sofas, crocheted napkins on the coffee table, blossoming flowers and homemade pottery. Layne had always wondered just how many hobbies his sister-in-law could keep up with.

Not to mention it was free of any dust, dirt or spider-webs whatsoever. A person should not be able to keep a full-time job, a four-year old child and have so much free time.

Abigail was the role-model of a perfect Eumain citizen.

"Oh no, I can't find her!" The man leaned across the couch to check behind it. Even there, no signs of mess were to be found. "What shall I do?"

A hushed giggle came from the next room. Layne smiled to himself and pushed the freshly painted white door open.

"Clarissa? Are you here?" he informed the girl of his entrance.

Something moved inside the closet. Layne turned away from it and knelt in front of the bed to check under it. He made sure his each turn would be as loud as he could manage. Even under the bed, the dust was swiped clean. The man whistled and got up.

He couldn't help but feel like just by being there, he spoiled the perfection that was this flat.

Only after there weren't any more places left to look, Layne opened the wooden closet's door. The messy pile of clothes couldn't have been a coincidence – Abigail wouldn't have let that stay like that for more than five minutes. The fact that a braid of fair hair stuck out from below the clothes was another good clue.

"Hmm, Rissa ain't here, either." Layne sighed and moved around some clothes trying not to uncover the girl. "Guess I really have lost her."

"Uncle, it's me! I'm here!" A little girl jumped up and stretched out her arms. Her face was reddish – perhaps it hasn't been a great idea to let her be there for so long.

"Rissa!" the man exclaimed and picked her up. "You won again. Good for you."

Rissa laughed and her bright brown eyes lit up. Seconds later she squirmed to be let down and dug through the pile of clothes.

"Look what I found!" She victoriously held out a carton box above her head. "Open up! Open up!"

Layne gave her a smile. He was certain that going through things that weren't his was never a great idea. Rissa, however, was four, curious and loud as there can be. He took the box from her and sat on the bed. The girl crawled in beside him, her chubby little legs moved around in excitement.

The man removed the top of the box to reveal what looked like a thick messy cord with little bubbles all around it. Those were Christmas lights, yet he's only seen similar to these in photos.

"Those are antique," he commented to himself and touched the bulbs. Modern Christmas lights were all wireless and controlled with a remote. "Be careful, Rissa. They're probably expensive."