Sjanneke's apartment is a bizarre converted attic space. The stairs up the side of the house seem carelessly hammered into place, and the whole thing rattles like a rotting wooden roller coaster when you climb it. All the walls are slanted and the passageways narrow. The oven is freestanding, and the shower's about as roomy as an MRI machine. Sort of the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari meets Charlie Bucket's house.
But she made me dinner tonight so I'll say that it was pretty cozy. Like a treehouse. Or a mine collapse.
No comments:
Post a Comment