‧͙⁺° *・༓ ☾ House In Which ☽ ༓・* °⁺‧͙
"A house is walls and walls of crumbling plaster... Narrow passages of staircases. A midge dancing under the balcony lanterns. Pink sunrises through gauze curtains. Chalk and littered desks. The sun melting in the red dust of the courtyard rectangle. Flea dogs dozing under the benches. Rusty pipes crisscrossing and spiraling under the cracked skin of the walls. Uneven rows of children's boots with sloping toes, lined up along the beds. Home is a boy running away into the emptiness of the corridors. The House turns an acute angle to the one who enters. It's a corner that you break until you bleed. Then you can come in."
About ‧͙⁺° *・༓ ☾ House In Which ☽ ༓・* °⁺‧͙
"A house is walls and walls of crumbling plaster... Narrow passages of staircases. A midge dancing under the balcony lanterns. Pink sunrises through gauze curtains. Chalk and littered desks. The sun melting in the red dust of the courtyard rectangle. Flea dogs dozing under the benches. Rusty pipes crisscrossing and spiraling under the cracked sk...Read more