Death. About two seconds after the explosives were triggered.
In the ward for the criminally insane, this door was the most-worn. Nail scratches mark the area around the peep hole, the wood is gouged everywhere from thrown chairs and hard kicks, and a ominous blood-colored stain is visible where it dripped in the second inset from the bottom. Aside from the damage, the coloring in this section was very vibrant, though it was probably little reprieve for those who had to work here.
About a second after the explosives were triggered.
That floor isn’t dirt–it’s old rotting grain that’s formed into a sort of moldy mud.
At sunset the light skips from puddle to stagnant puddle across the whole foundry room, playing with the classic sawtooth roof with half-hearted shadows.
A Merrill Piano from Boston, in the Recreation Room of the Front Dorm.
The top floor of the apartment seemed so empty without the furniture that once adorned it. Instead, my eyes were drawn to the worn paths in the floor between the rooms.
A better view of the belt system that drives all the machinery in the plant.
Where the drain changes shape from round concrete to arched brick.