Deadhouse Seven

This was down along the tracks next to an old slaughterhouse on the outskirts of some forsaken town, possibly Petaluma on a good day. I can’t remember if it really was Petaluma, or just some other bad town where people fool themselves into believing they are more important to the cosmos than termite endosymbionts or stable flies. I do remember there was a deputy who stopped and warned me off the property a little while before I snapped this shot with my Instamatic. His car was bronze and white like Sacramento County Sheriff’s cars used to be, back in the sixties. If anyone knows where this place is, let me know, because I would like to put the memory in its proper context. Maybe Petaluma doesn't actually deserve the blame this time.

© Pseudocognitive