InteriorsInteriorsReno's AppartmentReading: Open fileReadingOpen fileNeed to knowMy clearancePreview cardDistrictsHousing CampaignPossible conversations41"Back again, Hershel."Lines467"Goodbye."Lines829"She's magnificent, truly. I've never had a subject with such poise."Lines1A dour view of pipes, steam leaking from their edges.Lines1A fax machine, on but quiet -- listening for messages from its gäng.Lines1A giant cat lazes on a mountainside, licking blood from its paws.Lines1A heart-shaped control panel boasts of six different jet speeds and colours.Lines1A jazz record with only a series of shapes where the album title should be.Lines1A lot of cat hair. It must store its treasure here.Lines1A low-tech barrier.Lines1A photograph of a huge white cat.Lines1A rainbow of lipstick kisses covers the page.Lines1More conversations 29A soapy outline of someone's back.Lines1A sticky note reminds him to pay the cleaners.Lines1Abandoned noodles. They smell strongly of gin.Lines1Books of photography. Elegant studies of furniture and the male form.Lines1BOURGEOIS.Lines1BOURGEOIS.Lines1Cabinet doors have been ripped from their hinges.Lines1Documents with the Renotel dolphin at their head.Lines1Empty bottles are all that remain of the drinks bar.Lines1Fine wine, temptingly open.Lines1Hairbrush, moisturiser, and an empty glass.Lines1Imported from the whole of the Developed World.Lines1Looks like some trash managed to escape its bag on the way out.Lines1Medicine bottles. Good stuff's gone already.Lines1Must have spry knees for such a fashionably low bedframe.Lines1Somebody tried to climb these.Lines1Somebody tried to unblock the toilet with a riding whip.Lines1Someone risked their neck to arrange cat blankets carefully on this platform.Lines1Something at this party triggered the neolithic urge to build a henge.Lines1The beam of your flashlight near blinds you with its reflection.Lines1The cold dregs of an espresso.Lines1The figure in the other sealed, full-body suit gives you a stiff nod.Lines22The hot tub's wrecked. There are cracks in the fibreglass, old water gone viscous. The filter sounds like a drowning goose.Lines62The novel lies where you left it, gathering expensive dust -- 'Blood Type: Hecatomb' by H. S. Lastra.Lines21Very old typewriter. Must keep it for nostalgia.Lines1We should have a painting of us like this.Lines1You catch a glimpse of your face, unaware and unmasked. Then it's gone.Lines1You fight the urge to shake the cocktail mixer.Lines1You hear a steady dripping from inside the fridge.Lines1Other interiorsAllewayBagman StudioDuchesssEztisVacant ApartmentMy accountContribute
