One of a few dozen steel bed frames left in the rubble of the collapsing building.
The porcelain hoops guided the silk threads through the device.
Park Insurance Agency is no longer in business, nor would you be able to dial that phone number.
Looking into the Pool 8 Annex from the original Ogilvie’s elevator.
A switch for the yard engines, now on the edge of the property where nobody will find it.
The shaft house, where hydraulic steel doors allowed or denied entry into the mine shaft. Overhead is a light and alarm. If it sounds, the mine is being evacuated, and you best not go in and best stay the hell out of the way. Locals dump tires here, now.
A sign in the desolate cafeteria.
Looking down Pommenicher Straße from Gaststätte Rosarius, the monstrous machine about to devour the town bites at the ground.
A long exposure under the trestle-like approach to the dock, under which trains still pass regularly.