Guevara Blog

over the

over the dingy dwellings of the points, which, sullen and dark, seem in a dripping mood. A glimmering light, here and there, throws curious shadows over the liquid streets. Now the drenched form of some halfnaked and homeless being is reflected, standing shivering in the entrance to some dark and narrow alley then the halfcrazed inebriate hurries into the open door of a dismal cellar, or seeks eagerly a shelter for his bewildered head, in some suspicious den. Flashing through the shadow of the police lamp, in cow bay, a forlorn female is seen, a bottle held tightly under her shawl. Sailing as it were into the bottomless pit of the house of the nine nations, then suddenly returning with the drug, seeking the cheerless garret of her dissolute partner, and there striving to blunt her feelings against the horrors of