Friday, October 7, 2011


I like to go poking through abandoned houses and buildings. I like to try and guess what the people were like who used to occupy them. I wonder if I'll find a forgotten treasure, or something I could re-purpose. Nine times out of ten I leave empty handed but there's that one time where I actually find something cool that keeps me going.

The thrill of walking carefully, hoping not to fall through the floorboards makes my skin tingle. I wonder if I'll find snakes or bugs or worse. Sometimes, I find skeletons of animals that met their maker and I wonder how they died and why they died in that particular structure. Sometimes, it takes me a while to figure out what type of animal skeleton I'm looking at.

One time I was poking through an abandoned house and I found a cook book. It wasn't in too bad of shape so I took it with me so I could study the recipes. That book made me wonder who had lived in the house, and I wondered if the person who lived there had actually used that cook book. I've used it in my own home.

Some of the places I go into look pretty spooky. The hairs on the back of my neck rise up and I get chills. Those types usually make me worry that I'll find a dead person inside. I never have but hey, it could happen.

Some of the places are just plain sad. I wonder why the former occupants left everything behind. What would make them leave so quickly that they'd leave expensive pieces behind? And why hadn't anyone else removed them?

Time moves on and takes it's toll on these abandoned structures. Animals make them their homes and leave remnants of their own lives behind. Other people examine the structures and leave trash behind so that the whole place is filled with a jumble of evidence. I try not to disturb anything when I go in these places. I'm like a ghost, floating through, watching, waiting and abandoning the place like so many others have done before me. We stir up the dust and then leave so that it settles back down until the next being arrives to take a tour.

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