One rainy night in Owensboro, Kentucky, the band plays another in a string of miserable shows to a nearly empty house.
So he arranged for a friend to loan him the keys to his empty house in a neighborhood less than a mile away.
You used up one empty house, but now you have a rental that's empty.
The man himself often lived up to his bleak dream-world: lean, intense, racked by stomach complaints, and with a special fondness for the rugged limestone island of Faro, off Sweden's east coast, where he built a low stone house on an empty sweep of rock.
The first night we slept in a school, the second night in an empty building and last night we made use of a Government house with enough beds for half of the group.
But, in later years, he had developed a potent fear of darkness in an empty house.
For dual-earner families, the benefit of putting a school near a workplace -- rather than near an empty house -- is obvious.
Our family house is in a village outside Kabul but we can't go there, so the house stands empty.
Bill Clinton , in his usual manner, made a few empty gestures in the right direction (the White House Web site), but he never seem to get it himself--indeed, a few well-chosen URLs might have saved him from impeachment.
People piled into a small car, and in an instant the house was empty and still.
They routinely refill personal toiletries, (if your toothpaste is nearly empty they get you a new one), the in-house bathroom amenities are exceptional, and they provide an eyeglass cleaning cloth if you leave your glasses on the nightstand or bathroom counter, again, something I have never seen.
The halls were mostly empty by the time the House voted at 2:26 a.m. on Thursday.
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The house, cold, empty and boarded up, was a wooden Dutch Colonial at the edge of the water.
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The halls were mostly empty by the time the House voted at about 2:30 a.m.
They both went in a great hurry, and when they were gone the house seemed dreadfully quiet and empty, and the children wandered from one room to another and looked at the bits of paper and string on the floors left over from the packing, and not yet cleared up, and wished they had something to do.
Across the field, past the barn and the empty pigpen, past the house with its snow-packed porch, stood a smokehouse.
This was my life, these were the times when I was true: in these half hours here and there when I felt alone in the house, or those fleeting moments out on the road, when I opened a gate and crossed an empty farmyard, a stranger, even to myself, in the quiet of the afternoon.
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