Behind Doors

Behind me, where I've come from, lightning flashes. Wind and moisture spill over the edges of the valley. But now, in the heart, the air is still. An empty lot, bordering a building throbbing with internal heartbeats and rhythm. A rare occurrence where I am. Partially paved from it's former life. It offers a new look at the perpetual site of progress. A half dozen camps of those sleeping beneath its trapped light cough, rustle and complain lightly as I snap my shots quickly and depart.