Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. John’s demeanor shifted. but then I made the mistake of testing it indoors. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. Then he had gone away.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-09-2024 05:30:45
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