Room after room I find nothing but peeled paint and crumbled plaster.  Snippets of wire and empty electrical conduits are scattered everywhere, the scrappers have been through here and taken almost everything.  Left in their wake I find small clues as to what purpose this pace one served, preserved in the form of rust.



tongs smll

2 responses

  1. Nice shot! I think the stories that our conjured up in our minds when going through such places make the experience so intriguing; each of them so different than the other

    December 21, 2014 at 6:23 am

    • That is absolutely it Cynthia! Each new place is a new mystery to be investigated.

      December 21, 2014 at 11:03 pm

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