With an office like this, the ones food begins to taste more and more like nachos.
Mold creeps up the walls of the offices that housed the Closing Team of the TCRC – Twin Cities Research Center – as water damage pulls ceiling tiles down.
If it wasn’t for the humming and crackling of the wires, I could believe I had arrived to a post apocalyptic landscape.
The wings of the church had a lot more water damage than the rest. The organ on the balcony was in decent condition when I arrived.
The most pointless, beautiful and nuclear-bomb-proof catwalk I’ve been on to date. It goes between two high levels in its own bottom-lit concrete capsule in the center of the tallest, thickest building. Hang on, we’re riding this one out.
Who knew that wallpaper could stick to dirt so well?
It seemed the only way to get a view of the room was to climb above the mounds of rotting donations, now not even fit to burn.
In the barracks.
Shadows of the timberwork and cribbing are cast across cracked lake ice. My footprints follow cat tracks.