Peeling paint reveals the room numbers of the past.
Numbers on a pillar counted tank capacity for a removed water container; an unhinged door in an unhinged factory beguiles those looking for an exit.
Moss growing where the sunlight sneaks through the boarded windows.
Behind one of the kitchens is one of the few pieces of furniture remaining. Beside it, a small electric space heater–small by 1970s standards.
The windows reflect the sky. The bricks hit the ground.
Standing on the fence barricade that used to keep squatters out of the tunnel, the size of the space is impressive. What you see here is the current length of the tunnel; I set up a flashlight at the end to illuminate the concrete wall that is the lower portal.
Sheet metal over the windows. A red boot sole in the tumbleweeds. Is it inside, or outside?