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- Author: Jerome K Jerome
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- ISBN-10: 1514857383
- ISBN-13: 9781514857380
- Format: 21.6 x 28 x 0.7 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
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Description
At the corner of a long, straight, brick-built street in the far East End of London-one of those lifeless streets, made of two drab walls upon which the level lines, formed by the precisely even window-sills and doorsteps, stretch in weary perspective from end to end, suggesting petrified diagrams proving dead problems-stands a house that ever draws me to it; so that often, when least conscious of my footsteps, I awake to find myself hurrying through noisy, crowded thoroughfares, where flaring naphtha lamps illumine fierce, patient, leaden-coloured faces; through dim-lit, empty streets, where monstrous shadows come and go upon the close-drawn blinds; through narrow, noisome streets, where the gutters swarm with children, and each ever-open doorway vomits riot; past reeking corners, and across waste places, till at last I reach the dreary goal of my memory-driven desire, and, coming to a halt beside the broken railings, find rest.
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- Author: Jerome K Jerome
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- ISBN-10: 1514857383
- ISBN-13: 9781514857380
- Format: 21.6 x 28 x 0.7 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
At the corner of a long, straight, brick-built street in the far East End of London-one of those lifeless streets, made of two drab walls upon which the level lines, formed by the precisely even window-sills and doorsteps, stretch in weary perspective from end to end, suggesting petrified diagrams proving dead problems-stands a house that ever draws me to it; so that often, when least conscious of my footsteps, I awake to find myself hurrying through noisy, crowded thoroughfares, where flaring naphtha lamps illumine fierce, patient, leaden-coloured faces; through dim-lit, empty streets, where monstrous shadows come and go upon the close-drawn blinds; through narrow, noisome streets, where the gutters swarm with children, and each ever-open doorway vomits riot; past reeking corners, and across waste places, till at last I reach the dreary goal of my memory-driven desire, and, coming to a halt beside the broken railings, find rest.
Reviews