….'My own room is a tiny renovated bedroom….. hardly any light,
book-knife. No red cushion. No cushion at all. Hard chair. Smelly. Painful.
Hot water pipes very near. Gurgle all the time. Nearly go mad. Nice view
of wall through window. Pretty park nearby. Sea half a mile off…..Lunatic
asylum mile off…..'
It might beggar belief that the man who wrote words of such huge international impact slept in the tiniest of bedrooms.
This ‘box room’ has the only working gas lamp in the house, a single bed, a desk and a small chair but it also has a snugness that envelops you (Oh, we've fixed the gurgling pipes so that you will get a good night's sleep!).
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