May 26, 2017 21:28:19 GMT -5
Post by bluebird on May 26, 2017 21:28:19 GMT -5
[attr="class","snailhouse"]
[attr="class","Chromeleft"]
[attr="class","Chromeleftoverlay"]
[attr="class","NOSTALGIA"]
[attr="class","Chromeright"]
[attr="class","Chromeoverlay"]
[attr="class","puppycat"]@someone
[attr="class","lemonsoda"]
[attr="class","puppycat"]notes here, keep it short
[attr="class","monody"]
they charge me for years I can no longer pay.
This slum only has one story.
On closer examination, the detail that first leaped out at you was that the door could only ever have been the door of a slum, whereas the casement window had it been set into hewn stone instead of rubble-stone, could have been the window of a mansion.
The door was nothing more than a motley collection of worm-eaten planks crudely tacked together with crosspieces that looked like roughly sawn logs. It opened directly onto a steep staircase with high treads covered in mud, plaster, street, to shoot straight up like a ladder only to disappear in the shadows between two walls. The top of the lopsided opening where the door swung was masked by a narrow board in the middle of which a triangular aperture had been hacked, both skylight and transom when the door was shut. On the inside of the door a brush dipped in ink had drawn the number 52 in a couple of strokes, and above the board the same brush had daubed the number 50; the inside replied, no, at number 52. Indescribable rags the color of dust hung by the way of curtains at the triangular transom.
The windows were wide, quite high, furnished with louvered shutters and sash windows with large panes; only, these large windowpanes had some various wounds, at once hidden and betrayed by ingenious paper bandages, and the shutter, coming off their hinges and hanging loose, threatening passersby more than they shielded the inhabitants. Horizontal slats were missing here and there, and had been crudely replaced by boards nailed on vertically; so that what started out as Venetians ended up as plain panels.
╾╾ Les Miserables
On closer examination, the detail that first leaped out at you was that the door could only ever have been the door of a slum, whereas the casement window had it been set into hewn stone instead of rubble-stone, could have been the window of a mansion.
The door was nothing more than a motley collection of worm-eaten planks crudely tacked together with crosspieces that looked like roughly sawn logs. It opened directly onto a steep staircase with high treads covered in mud, plaster, street, to shoot straight up like a ladder only to disappear in the shadows between two walls. The top of the lopsided opening where the door swung was masked by a narrow board in the middle of which a triangular aperture had been hacked, both skylight and transom when the door was shut. On the inside of the door a brush dipped in ink had drawn the number 52 in a couple of strokes, and above the board the same brush had daubed the number 50; the inside replied, no, at number 52. Indescribable rags the color of dust hung by the way of curtains at the triangular transom.
The windows were wide, quite high, furnished with louvered shutters and sash windows with large panes; only, these large windowpanes had some various wounds, at once hidden and betrayed by ingenious paper bandages, and the shutter, coming off their hinges and hanging loose, threatening passersby more than they shielded the inhabitants. Horizontal slats were missing here and there, and had been crudely replaced by boards nailed on vertically; so that what started out as Venetians ended up as plain panels.
╾╾ Les Miserables
MADE BY MIZO.❉
