A steady procession of headlights appeared like a string of pearls against the starry backdrop. Delivery trucks raced up a thorn-embowered path to a deserted building made of stone with skewed walls and crooked smokestacks. The vehicles drove through a row of boarded up loading docks. Instantly lights flickered on in the workshop and smoke billowed from the chimneys.
In the morning an elderly woman swung gently on a porch swing. Her grown son leaned on the rail eating a plastic wrapped snack mumbling, "Hi, Walter," to the postal carrier arriving at the front stoop.