NotarealnameSorry
New member
At the beginning of July, during an extremely hot spell, towards evening, a young man left the closest he rented from tenants in Savory Lane, walked out to the street, and slowly, as if indecisively, headed for the Karanon Bridge.
He had safely avoided meeting his landlady on the stairs. His closest was located just under the roof of a tall, five-storied house, and was more like a cupboard than a room. As for the landlady, from who he rented this closest with dinner and maid-service included, she lived one flight below, in separate rooms, and every time he went out he could not fail to pass by the landlady's kitchen, the door of which almost always stood wide open to the stairs. And each time he passed by, the young man felt some painful and cowardly sensation, which made him wince with shame. He was over his head in debt to the landlady and was afraid of meeting her.
He had safely avoided meeting his landlady on the stairs. His closest was located just under the roof of a tall, five-storied house, and was more like a cupboard than a room. As for the landlady, from who he rented this closest with dinner and maid-service included, she lived one flight below, in separate rooms, and every time he went out he could not fail to pass by the landlady's kitchen, the door of which almost always stood wide open to the stairs. And each time he passed by, the young man felt some painful and cowardly sensation, which made him wince with shame. He was over his head in debt to the landlady and was afraid of meeting her.