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The ground is honeycombed with open foundations: exposed basements and crawlspaces. They flood higher with each rain and materials float in the standing water (the marble fountain near the entry gate remains empty). These fragmentary structures mimic the stillness of ruins but differ in that, incomplete and never inhabited, they don’t store the past image of their wholeness nor the potency of any time at all. This lack renders the scene even more unnerving because what could it possibly be that’s haunting them?

Faraway sounds of machinery come from the woods past the final cul de sac. Someone is standing at the tree line and speaking into the forest. They’re definitely not addressing me. The forest floor is too loud and hard, I think, and then see that my shoes are parting the layer of wet dead leaves to reveal mosaic tile. Machinery sounds again still faraway. Stephen is next to me now and he asks, “What is this, some kind of facility?” Alexs entry in mezzanine @totalpond

 

 

 

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