On Sunday I went to two different places, one of which I'd been fascinated with for a long while. This is a house in Easton, MA that was inhabitted until about a year ago when part of the house fell off and the town finally condemned the building. It was such a beautiful place at one point and neglect did it in. I named it the House of Usher...
(http://squatteam.org/images/zoom/CVCOZU/viewsize/usher1.jpg)
(http://squatteam.org/images/zoom/CVCOZU/viewsize/usher2.jpg)
(http://squatteam.org/images/zoom/CVCOZU/viewsize/usher3.jpg)
More Pictures - House of Usher at SquatTeam.org (http://squatteam.org/index.php?module=photoalbum&PHPWS_Album_op=view&PHPWS_Album_id=14&MMN%20target="_blank")
(Sorry, I had to update the links)
Completely unnerved, I leaped to my feet; but the measured rocking movement of Usher was undisturbed. I rushed to the chair in which he sat. His eyes were bent fixedly before him, and throughout his whole countenance there reigned a stony rigidity. But, as I placed my hand upon his shoulder, there came a strong shudder over his whole person; a sickly smile quivered about his lips; and I saw that he spoke in a low, hurried, and gibbering murmur, as if unconscious of my presence. Bending closely over him, I at length drank in the hideous import of his words.
"Not hear it? -- yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long -- long -- long -- many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it -- yet I dared not -- oh, pity me, miserable wretch that I am! -- I dared not -- I dared not speak! We have put her living in the tomb! Said I not that my senses were acute? I now tell you that I heard her first feeble movements in the hollow coffin. I heard them -- many, many days ago -- yet I dared not -- I dared not speak! And now -- to-night -- Ethelred -- ha! ha! -- the breaking of the hermit's door, and the death-cry of the dragon, and the clangour of the shield! -- say, rather, the rending of her coffin, and the grating of the iron hinges of her prison, and her struggles within the coppered archway of the vault! Oh whither shall I fly? Will she not be here anon? Is she not hurrying to upbraid me for my haste? Have I not heard her footstep on the stair? Do I not distinguish that heavy and horrible beating of her heart? Madman!" -- here he sprang furiously to his feet, and shrieked out his syllables, as if in the effort he were giving up his soul -- "Madman! I tell you that she now stands without the door!"
Sorry, I accidentally blew up the links to those pictures when I was working on the new tst site (I actually blew up all of the old site) should work again now...