When I spotted this building on Hyde in San Francisco (in the middle of a block where the life of the humans and pigeons and dogs on the sidewalk is fairly desperate and noisy and sad) it triggered one of those recurring fantasies of the sort we all carry around inside our heads (even though no two people carry around exactly the same ones). Mine in this case consisted of an irrational capacity to believe that a certain set of opaque windows (they are always on the top floor) conceals the potential for some new and splendid happiness. Right up there! Precisely in that lofty corner apartment with the unlined satin drapes and the fleur de lys medallions picked out in purple and gold against a pristine mint-green background. Blue sky behind, flat and pale.