Deceptively decrepit on the outside, but warmly inviting on the in, my ghetto apartment let me feel at home amidst the turbulant noise and bustle of big-city Los Angeles. Every morning, the sun burst through our curtains, and the volume of the street’s ambient symphony would servicably increase, urging the transition from sleep and dreams to lucidity.
We moved on Monday, and–while our new apartment is functional and in a “nicer” neighborhood–it certainly cannot rival the flavor of the old.
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