I was walking back to my friend’s apartment, ready to call it a day, when all of a sudden I see a strange looking building to my right. It was gated and there was a distinct darkness looming around it. I take out my camera and snap some pictures.
With half of the roof missing, and upside down dark circles left behind by burning flames, the building was a sad thing to behold. It was a deserted. It reminded me of horror films, or tragic stories. Like Nancy Drew books with places that housed people or objects with their own sense of character. I pretend this place used to be majestic in the 1940’s. But I don’t know anything about architecture. That’s what research is for, right? I did no such research of this building. Instead I took pictures and used my imagination to ask some questions.
How many countless students must have walked in and out of the front doors? And now that she was standing with a missing top, how many of those students could recognize her? Would they want to? Is she an unwanted thing now? How sad.
By one broken window, a shelf full of books sat unharmed. Some burnt and some looked perfectly fine.
Buildings have character too. They age like people, they house memories like a brain, and they can also die. This one is getting demolished in a few weeks. It’s not livable. Although, I did see a sleeping bag out in front of the building, I suspect it must be toxic to be in her. Poor toxic building, I think to myself.
Like a character, this house is broken down, burned, and bolted —- and desperately waiting to be reborn.