The last wooden school chair survives—almost intact—by being jammed between a pipe and the ceiling of the boiler room.
One of my favorite pictures of the tunnel. I am holding a bike rim and wearing a headlamp. My friend triggered the flash just behind my lower back. The fog is a temperature inversion at the entrance of the tunnel; it was 102 degrees outside of the tunnel and about 50 degrees inside, and humid.
Looking up at the remodeled projection booth from the small stage.
The pigeons and raccoons have no use for these, so they will sit empty until snow or fire removes them by force.
Two charmers, I’m sure. This area was a coal pit for the nearby power plant.
When you’re incoming’s piling up with paint chips, what’s one to do? Call in a sick?
A common room with a big bay window that overlooked the main entrance of the hospital.
Looking out the finishing end of the sintering plant at a network of torched-off catwalks through a maze of rust and asbestos. Paradise.