The "To-let" scribbled messily on the facade drew attention. The building was mired in shadows, even in bright day light. The place had definitely seen better days. The weed-grown yard of the derelict, perhaps it missed the hands that had tended rose-beds. The red skin scraped off by the claws of green moss. The gaping hollows in place of doors and windows. The soul and skeleton bared. The classic, and if I am not mistaken, British flavor of the frontage. Abandoned. Forsaken. I am told the place is jinxed. Misfortune has befallen various owners. The "To-let" slapped in sheer mockery.
Hark! The rhythm
Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
The sun was nearly gone. So were the last of his passengers. That was what he thought. Driving the cab at snail-pace through city’s traffi...
-
He went there. Daily. Unfailingly. His conversations, Candid, Intimate. And why not! He had Inspired That iron-man, ...
-
The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on h...
How sad!
ReplyDeleteYeah it made me sad too.
DeleteI actually like the way the building looks. There's something about the decaying former beauty that appeals to me although I also know how it could make some sad.
ReplyDeleteEven I loved the building in rustic raw shape. I wish it were habitable
DeleteI could live there and maybe wipe the jinx away. I do like your description though.
ReplyDeleteThe View from the Top of the Ladder
Brave and bold. Should I talk to the contractors?
Deletelooks like a desperate attempt to rent a building! Like the edges of the image! {:-D
ReplyDeleteYeah but the stories abound and so it stands lifeless.
Delete