There was something superbly aesthetic about it. It sat in pride of place in all its pure white splendour and it filled her with joy.
The woman had been smitten before, it was several years ago when another stark, white vision of loveliness caught her eye. It was bordered in delicate, pale grey, and on that occasion the woman stood right there in the shop and stroked it. She was oblivious to her tactile reaction; it was only when her companion asked if she knew she was stroking a machine that she became aware of her actions.
Her friends if they were to read this post, knowing the woman as they do, would easily guess at the most recent source of her undisguised pleasure.
Footnote: Dear Visitors, thank you for reading this post. It’s in response to the WordPress writing challenge and the word I responded to is aesthetic.