Suna’s Egyptian Eatery

My great-grandaunt Ursula had an immaculate dining room. Its china cabinet was filled to the brim with Hummels and other porcelain things too fragile to be of any use. Its chandelier was a starburst of real crystals that had been dusted Lord knows how many times. The cloth on the table was real Nottingham lace, and shielded against all insults by a thick layer of clear vinyl that would squeak if you glided a finger across it.