A city born to die – by drowning.
Algonquin Round Table wit Robert Benchley visited Venice and sent a telegram to David Niven: “Streets full of water. 1,304 more words
It was only supposed to last a month. Two, tops, if I really couldn’t get my shit together on the apartment hunting front. The plan made perfect sense to me: I’d couch surf with my friend Baily for whatever time it took, and when that was over — optimistically, end of November 2013 — I’d return to Unit 395 at Venice Public Storage to reclaim the stuff I’d very carefully shoved and thrown in a month earlier. 1,027 more words