![]() All bags, towels, socks and underpants are the same so that no one is offended. A couple of waffle towels, a pile of handkerchiefs and dirty laundry. ![]() A bag for storing personal belongings - that's what it's called. No one will say it out loud, but the people of Combs would prefer not to have him around. The façade is bare and gloomy, as it should be. Garages and outbuildings, garbage cans and dog kennels huddle up to it. It bristles with antennas and wires, crumbles with chalk and cries with cracks. Now it is gray on the front and yellow on the inside, yard side. ![]() It has three floors, the facade faces the highway, it also has a courtyard - a long rectangle surrounded by a grid. It is alone - the other houses shun it - and it doesn't look like a prong because it doesn't reach up. He is old and closer in age to the wastelands - the burial places of his peers. On neutral territory between two worlds - battlements and wastelands - stands the House. The dust of demolished houses, the nests of rats and stray dogs are much more interesting to young "combers" than their own yards - the intervals between the teeth. ![]() Where they have not grown yet, there are fenced-in wastelands. The teeth are white, many-eyed and similar to each other. Long high-rise buildings here are lined up in jagged rows with gaps of square-concrete yards - the supposed places for the games of young "combers". The house is on the outskirts of the city. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |