And each storey moaned and wept as the rain crept down one floor at a time; a skeleton of what should have been, if maybe this or that or whichever.
And the rain builds up as the bricks fall down and somehow it has become a part of the scenery.
And you pass by day after day, and after a while you don’t notice it’s there.
But at least the fence company is making money.
14.12.10
