Above the old machine shop is a packing building and a crate of cardboard label rolls.
Workers’ lockers, strewn across Main Street, yet still out of the way.
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.
On the desk of an optometrist’s office.
The aft lifeboat survived auction, although now all it holds is an emergency ladder to help men who’ve fallen overboard get on deck.
This seems to be the space where upholstery patterns would be drafted. On the table were half-finished notes on a new design.
A 1960s style TV set in a sun room at the back of the poor house. The concrete room survived the roof collapse and was full of rotten children’s books and toys. Perhaps it was where donations were sorted, or perhaps it was a nursery/orphanage area.