As usual, it's sitting upstairs,

  • robert
  • As usual, it's sitting upstairs,

 1 day ago


on a steep hill - something indeterminate peeks out of the forest, a building or its shadow. I scramble up the steep slope, the wet leaves underfoot treacherously slipping away. Two steps forward, one back. My breath is getting short, but I give it a go. The door is wide open, open so long that no one remembers to close it. Inside, a circular space burrows into the ground, a cold reinforced concrete cavity. No doubt - an old water tower. A silent witness to a time when water travelled silently down from here to keep the town spread out across the valley alive.
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