Many doors had collapsed as rot ate away their edges. The open doorways that were once perhaps very welcoming were now an eerie and unwelcoming sight. Dry rot, vines and other undesired vegetation had taken the place of paint on most buildings and created their own kind of decoration.
Barcombe, once a growing town on the rise to a better future was but a hollow shell of its former self. 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.
Noble men and women were once called upon from the fire station, ready to save whoever needed saving. Unfortunately this town couldn’t be saved. Funnily enough it was mostly cats that had made this station their home.
It was a strange feeling to be in the footsteps of so many lives now long forgotten and not knowing what became of the people who once spent their lives here. But there was an odd sense of harmony as nature reclaimed what was theirs and resettled an old balance.
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. Broken roof tiles lay in the streets and gardens and crusty, dry paint faded from walls and fences.
Pantmawr, once a major hub for new businesses and young families was now partially reclaimed by nature. The many sounds of wild animals who’ve made their home in this town are carried in the wind and give it a new sense of liveliness and vibrancy.
In a strange sense of irony it was the library that was full of sounds now. Scattered pages of books, scratched wood and broken computers had become the home and playground of a huge community of cats.
The town was truly an eerie sight. So many lives forgotten and whatever was left to show for it is slowly withering away as time goes on. 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.
