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gabbyncatHarry leaned out of her sitting room window. Her small apartment was at the top of one of the old city tenements that teetered over the street below. If Harry looked down she could see the cobblestones of the street and the long-disused central gutter directly beneath her. If she looked out, her gaze was carried over the cascade of rooftops as they tumbled down the steep hillside and into the bay.
On mornings like this, when a light sea breeze blew up the hill and the sun was bright, everything looked fresh and inviting. The cramped, jumble of streets and houses became a delight.
If she craned her neck round a bit she could see the ugly squat squares of concrete of the new buildings in their rigid and space-efficient grids, although even they had flashes of colour where the residents had placed window boxes or the graffiti artists had left their mark. For all its awkardness, and density and inconvenience, Harry had to admit that it was a beautiful city.
Next Bingo Square: Dancing
On mornings like this, when a light sea breeze blew up the hill and the sun was bright, everything looked fresh and inviting. The cramped, jumble of streets and houses became a delight.
If she craned her neck round a bit she could see the ugly squat squares of concrete of the new buildings in their rigid and space-efficient grids, although even they had flashes of colour where the residents had placed window boxes or the graffiti artists had left their mark. For all its awkardness, and density and inconvenience, Harry had to admit that it was a beautiful city.
Next Bingo Square: Dancing