The once jam-packed roads that led to Glenarm was slowly absorbed back into nature as grass, flowers and small shrubs reclaimed what they can as fast as they can. Dust and debris littered the roads within town while unkempt gardens are cluttered with forsaken possessions.
Some doorways seemed in relative decent condition while others were destroyed and were indistinguishable from other collapsed walls and piles of rubble. Broken roof tiles lay in the streets and gardens and crusty, dry paint faded from walls and fences.
Glenarm, once a major festival town and home to an amazing night lift had all but faded away from history. The many voices of a once bustling community were replaced with the many voices of wild animals and stray pets that had made this town their new home.
The art gallery was once the cultural pride and joy of this town and tourists flocked to see the art displayed here. Now it was home to a flock of doves who’ve destroyed most art pieces in their ignorance of what it once meant to so many people.
Despite the many animals that inhabit this town it was still a very unsettling sight to behold. Nature had taken its toll on the vast majority of town. But not all was lost. In a way the legacy of this town lived on through the animals that lived here now, the spirit was still alive albeit in a different manner.
The main road that led to and from Graycott was barely more than a dirt path now and covered in shrubs and small bushes. Dust and debris littered the roads within town while unkempt gardens are cluttered with forsaken possessions.
Most doors still stood in their frames as if nothing had changed. A few were ajar for one reason or another, perhaps left open in a hurry. Many buildings stood precariously upright despite looking like they had no means to do so. It’d take just a slight nudge of a strong wind to tipple them all over.
Graycott, once a peaceful and growing community had become nothing more than a painful memory. The air which was once filled with the many sounds of a growing community had grown eerily quiet. The silence was only broken up by the occasional animal sound and gust of wind.
The lighthouse was once a beacon in multiple senses of the word. The once bright light on the outskirts of town was now merely a broken pillar and the perfect spot for nesting birds who gladly took advantage of this.
No matter how you looked at it this town was an eerie sight to behold. Lives forgotten, perhaps completely ruined and there was barely anything to show for it. But not all was lost. In a way the legacy of this town lived on through the animals that lived here now, the spirit was still alive albeit in a different manner.
