When I came into this flat of four small box-like rooms, the bedroom was painted pale pink, except for the fireplace wall, which had a fanciful pink and blue paper. The woodwork was a dark purple, almost black. This paint is sold by a big decorating shop in the West End and is called Bilberry.
Two girls had the flat before me…The woman upstairs told me they often had parties that lasted all night. ‘But I liked to hear them, I enjoy the sound of life’. She was reproachful: I don’t have parties often enough for her. The girls left no forwarding address, following the tradition of this flat. Over the years it has often happened that the bell rings and people ask for ‘Angus Ferguson –I thought he lived here?’ And the Maitlands? And Mrs Dowland? And the young Caitsbys? All these people, and probably many others, have lived in this flat, and departed leaving nothing behind. I know nothing about them, and nor does anyone else in the building, though some of them have lived here for years.
Excerto do conto "A Room" de Doris Lessing
O declínio das democracias
Há 6 horas