the silence was complete

She set one in the front room, one in the back room. Then she went, creaking in her cheap
shoes, to the window and drew the curtains. They slid with a familiar
click along the brass rod, and soon the windows were obscured by thick
sculptured folds of claret-coloured plush. When she had drawn the curtains
in both rooms, a profound silence seemed to fall upon the drawingroom.
The world outside seemed thickly and entirely cut off. Far away
down the next street they heard the voice of a street hawker droning; the
heavy hooves of van horses clopped slowly down the road. For a moment
wheels ground on the road; then they died out and the silence was

from V. Woolf, The Years



  1. i think Virginia is THE poet of windows and curtains, it is amazing how often she depicts them in her books... especially in this one, it is almost like an obsession...

  2. and you would know all about obsessions, especially in regard to windows and curtains.