“My name is Luka/ I live on the second floor”

It is not like I found it, sometimes it seems to me that it was my house to find me instead.
My parents were visiting me and they found this ad right the street after my flat.
In that time I was starting to look around for a new flat, seen that my three years contract were running to an end and I was about to have to choose if sign up for another three years or resign and search something else.
I loved my flat, mind me. It was little, cozy, center placed and cute as a button.
Besides after three years work it worked like a clockwork and seemed like a well tailored suit on me.
Nonetheless I felt like I was somehow wasting time with it and I felt that each penny I put on it would have been wasted in the end, seen I would not own it never ever.
So I started half heartedly to see if there were other possibilities.
After a couple of faux starts ( remember me to tell you about the flat with the star shaped corridor ^_^'' ) my parents came back with a number.
A couple of phone call later I was entering it, to find this.

Front view (guess what? It's the second floor)



The Living room window



Kitchen outside



Kitchen inside ( admire the ruins)



More ruins...



Entrance to the corridor

The engine itself :)



The horrible bathroom



Now, That's some serious closet space!



Bedroom window



The rear garden ( not mine sadly :( )

The previous owner has left in a hurry ( bad tenant, I was told) but not before giving herself the pleasure of smashing the house to pieces.
The kitchen was a ruin, the heating system dated from the 60s ( 66 to be precise), the bathtub and sink were both broken and, in a vulgar display of cruelty the precedent tenant had stolen the door handles.
A bad ( can you spell bad? Do it) paint job did the rest and I rememeber looking in horror at all the door locks jammed by the white thick paint.
But we clicked immediately nonetheless.
I sensed the potential of this house immediately. Sure it would have been a battle, that I knew immediately, but the price was good ( very good indeed), it was in the middle of Brussels, entirely built in concrete ( the static structure of this house amazes me every time) and with a configuration that was quite peculiar for my adoptive town.
The “engine” that powers up this house was in the long alleyway that connects the living room to the bedroom and cuts the flat in the middle.
At the end of this two large windows a couple of large windows litterally drown the house in outside light, thing that , in this dark lands , is a asset never enough commended
The rest of the house is straightforward, logically built and was it not for the bathroom ( with its dumb placed bath) you could class it as visionary for somehting built in the late 60s.
I was in love, I was from the moment I saw the light cut through me and arrive to the window from the other side of the corridor.
I spare you the details of how long it took to finally sign the sale act ( On request, it is quiet a funny story... NOW) .
I rememebr though what my mate Fred told me the day I signed.
“Me and Nath are happy for you lad. Honestly, we could not stand to climb to the fourth floor of your bloody actic once more. Now visits will be more beareable.”
Good point my friend and, as if I needed some prophecy, Suzanne Vega already wrote a song on it.
Now it was only the small matter of moving and doing the basic repair to the house.
Matter that, I can assure you, would have showed us itself as not being small in any way.