It seems the inhabitants exist like cloud forest creatures flourishing only at preordained heights where their nourishment is found. They go from room to room all night, drinking and playing cards, getting lost in their diminutive labyrinths that mimic those of the streets, the alleys, and passages. One co-exists in a form of mutual spectatorship. Once, these buildings were beautifully carbonized by layers of light-killing coal and car exhaust and they stood out like giant blocks of basalt cut out for later sculpting. This black Paris now exists only in noir films of the 40’s and 50’s, made before the city mandated exterior cleaning.