A feeling never felt before comes over one when walking up and down the streets of a town with no residents. It must have almost felt similar to those who lived in Picher up until its final days. At one end of the block sits a house collapsing in on itself, water bogged and retreated. The floors lined with broken glass, magazines, childrens toys and rusted appliances. A few houses down stands a respectable modern American two story home, spotless inside, still with an aroma of a family room essence in the air. A few houses down sites a concrete foundation mapping out where there were once rooms and walls...
1 comment:
i love your shite maine. its very good indeed
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