That floor isn’t dirt–it’s old rotting grain that’s formed into a sort of moldy mud.
A detailed look at the side of one of the thousands of transformer boxes in the war city.
Looking out at the abandoned neighborhood around the house.
From the bottom of the skyway I looked back, my eyes tracing the vines from the marsh up the smokestacks to the perfect Midwestern sky.
On the Turbine Room floor, one old steam pump still remains, ready to pressurize steam pipes with the hot stuff throughout the car shops and boilers.
The control room floats above the top of the dock atop a spiral staircase.
Tunnels interconnected all of the complex, carrying power, steam, laundry and food throughout the hospital. This is a typical causeway that would have been very busy when the hospital was operating. In some places, signs still point to defunct areas of the hospital.
The common rooms bulge out of the institutional geometry of the wards.