The water tower was enormous in its failure. Its rusted frame spoke of lonely decades, its mangled frame sideways a hundred feet in the dirt, the huge tank toppled and cracked open gaping wide welcome.

Heedless walking, three brothers, inside and around our echoes bouncing with the rocks tossed against fading steel. The walkway a ladder we climbed aboard, wrapping our scarfs tight taking in the cold view. The ruins of the old army barracks surrounded us in crumbling pride. Moldy train tracks, broken by twenty year old tree roots, curved in all directions, ending here and there at remnants of buildings, their barren roofs unable to hide the piles of broken glass, fallen bricks, porcelain toilets, pipes, generators, stripped copper wires.