Extract from 'Introduction' (1)

The younger of the two men carried a stepladder. He used it frequently, carefully wiping away any spot of moisture he could find on the glass. The older one looked like the manager. He had delegated the odd task, here and there, and stood around. 

There was no way she could be heard through the double-layered insulation so the woman kept pointing with her finger at imaginary damp, wanting them around a little longer. Later, as they packed their cleaning equipment, she caught the eye of the older man. The listless look went away, and his eyes danced with a cruel smirk. He was sorry, she thought, but he was not in touch with that part of his self. 

The residence was once a gazebo. Secured with glass walls on all sides, it was now one giant circular room, like some circus ring. The place had a double-sized bed, two chairs, an old-style television set and some portable empty shelves. The woman and her husband had brought their books, which filled the shelves and then spilled over to occupy a large part of the floor. The original roof, curved tiles in red clay, had been retained and sloped gently on all sides. A false ceiling, grey and embedded with white electrical lights, completed the new look. 

You could dim the lights but not altogether turn them off.

A lush green lawn surrounded the gazebo on all sides, manicured twice a day by different pairs of young men. The woman and her husband spent hours discussing it, every time they concluded that it was an import from a colder clime, for nothing so velvety and luxurious could bloom in the oppression of the tropics. The rotating sprinklers was their secret delight, you could spend hours watching the wilful showers douse the pliant grass. Like much else in their lives, an unknown hand controlled its movements. 

Beyond that verdant lawn, a metalled track ran in a wider circle. The tar shone on its surface like a silk ribbon, in rain or shine, till one realised it was the most hopeless road in the world, for it came from nowhere and could not take you anywhere else. In the afternoon and evenings, it came to life. Children rode their colourful bikes, toddlers felt safe to test their unsteady gait, for there was no way an unruly automobile could end up there.

When weary, they rested on the lawn or crowded around an icecream cart an old man pushed around, forever in a daze, ringing a silver bell with ominous intensity.