Fingers brushed against the wall stained with verdigris, feeling its rough texture, Theodora withdrew her hand, thinking it was moss.
Outside, the rain pattered against the eaves, swaying the wind chimes of this townhouse.
Looking at the greasy fireplace, Theodora lifted her skirt disdainfully and lightly jumped over the cornerless floorboard.
She pulled up the wooden shutters, revealing the somewhat desolate flower garden and courtyard outside.
A bit further afar, one could see the tower of Joan of Arc Hospital.
According to the nuns, that's where the ward for infectious patients is.
The hospital tries to keep them isolated from the outside world, and they're only allowed to leave once recovered.
Standing at the doorway, a man dressed as a steward was fiercely arguing with a middle-aged housing agent.
"Three months minimum lease, that's my bottom line."
"Maybe we'll be gone in a month, why not lower the price?"
"Is 60 Dinars a month too expensive for such a good house?"
