severalls | unfinished business
16|04|05

The Main Hall was more trashed than before, the local vandals having figured out how to winch down the light fittings and then smash them to smithereens. Lone pieces of furniture, found in lost cupboards from other parts of the asylum, had ended up here, in some weird last assemblage of the occupants of Severalls.

It was still impressive though.

The blackened stage was decorated with white graffiti, the local youths having found a tin of white paint. Lovers, taunts, insults and quips are all adorned there - and my name is slap-bang in the middle. Infamous at last.