Halfway up the coal conveyor, covered in coal dust… black streaks of snot. Starting to get good.
Ducking the steam lines overhead between the mixers and compressors, a water tower says “good morning,” right past the slack power lines. This is the sleepy uptown of the war city.
A bunk room, minus the bunks.
Timbers overlap where mine cars plunged, a strange wooden fence traced the center of the beams.
As sun set the car barn underwent a temperature inversion causing a dense fog to rise from the puddles where tracks once where. I opened the Yellowstone-sized doors and watched the bank roll out into downtown Mitchell.
The sun shining through one of the buildings; everything was overgrown.
A bedroom, from the basement. The Dog Days are Over.
2005. A skyway connecting two Which tube carried the beer? I hope it’s the big one!