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Describe a building as seen by a man whose son has just been killed in war
– Do not mention the son, war, death or the old man

Tall and dark, drawn with heavy hands and thick lines. It seemed like the creator had too many late nights, too many mistakes, too many eraser marks that somehow got carved into the structure.
It wasn’t like the buildings that lined the streets surrounding it, there was no alabaster finishes or silver lined doors. It was just dark, and not in the sense that you hope for dark things to be. Out of place, almost.
The building and the ground surrounding it both were the color of volcanic ash. Cigarette butts littered the pavement, but no smokers. Bird shit everywhere, but no birds, no trees.

Describe the exact same building by a lover.
– Do not mention love, the lover, or the person there

The building was sterile, but in the same way that the labor wing of a hospital was. Clean, dark, but promising. You could look at it and consider all the flowers delivered to it, the hiring hand shakes given between its marble walls. It didn’t need a silver lining to be entrancing. The exact roof of the building was covered in greenery, dripping off the edges and down into the top floor windows, standing like hair when you first come back to school. The vegetation could only be seen by whoever got close enough the edge of the structure.