Every day on my way to the water last summer, I walked past this building in Castiglione in Umbria. Forgetting to ask the locals what kind of business it housed, my companions and I had a number of sinister speculations about this place.
For instance, this was the setting of one of Vincent Price's lesser-known macabre films.
It's an illustration of how romantic things can sound translated into another language, such as, "body repair shop."
It's a truth-in-advertising name for a piercing palace. Or a plastic-surgery.
This is the Casa del Family Mutilato. Only the ancient family name of this noble and brave people survives. Or, even more: the last scion of the line, tiny and bent, with a querulous and sharp voice, shuffles yet among the cardboard cartons in the upper floors of the family manse.
Or, now that I mull it over again -- wait, is that the same verb as mulled wine? -- I wonder if it's a Casa del maimed people. What used to be called "crippled children," or perhaps "unfortunates."
Heavy sigh. Well, we can take comfort in knowing that at least it's not presently in use.
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